


Sugar Soul

by HappyDagger



Series: Never Let Me Down Again [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cock Cages, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Forced Bonding, Forced Orgasm, Gaslighting, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Jealousy, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Non-Consensual Bondage, Physical Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Ramsay is his own warning, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Revenge, possessive Ramsay is best Ramsay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:46:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 50
Words: 76,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3925126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyDagger/pseuds/HappyDagger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damon and Loras take a trip over winter break hoping to deal with the losses they've suffered in very different ways.</p><p>Ramsay has control issues. Theon hangs out with Jeyne and gets to know Alyn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wake Up

“Wake up, lazy,” his voice coxed delicately. Soft blue light fell crisply through a window making the white airy sheets wrapped around his shoulder glow against slumbering shadows.

 Loras watched his finger chased a wrinkle in the sheets. “It seems so real. Every time, I still think you’re real.” He swallowed painfully.

“Get up. Let me see you before you go.” Loras shook his head and pulled the sheets over his eyes. “Please? I miss you.” The mattress sank by Loras’ feet. His warmth passed over Loras’ stomach and chest. His weight landed on Loras’ hips.

“You’re not real, dimples,” he smirked with a bitter taste in the back of his mouth.

“Yes I am.”

“No, Renly, you’re just my imagination. Another dream.” He bit his lip and blinked. “ _It hurts_.”

Renly pulled the covers down and kissed his tear away. “If I was from your head, I’d be accusing you of all kinds of things that aren’t true.”

“Hmm.”

“And we’d be fucking all the time.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s the first time you smiled for me since I died.”

“So, if you’re real, what are you? Where are you?”

“I’m me. Just me, cut from life’s tapestry,” he laughed like such a dork, the way he always had. “Where am I? Home, I think. Real home, the place we’re always looking for. You’ll know it like… your mother, like your own hand, or your closest secrets. I’m where we all want to return.”

“I don’t want to go. I don’t want you to either.”

“You do though. When you get lost in laughter, in dancing to that club music you like, in a orgasm, a high, a devastating crush on the most handsome man, ridiculous man in the world, a feeling of disbelief when he looks at you like you’re a king everyday for five years. When your best friend makes the dentist’s waiting room feel like home because he’s there, going on about what Madonna’s been up to.”

“Ha!” tears stung Loras’ eyes. Renly smile was sad but serene. “You hated how much I talk about stupid-“

“That’s a lie. Don’t do that to me.”

Loras swallowed. “Ok.”

 “I don’t know if it’s really heaven or nirvana, or the Summerland; it doesn’t matter. There all views of the same place, they’ve just been distorted.” Renly shrugged and leaned in, smiling with his dark eyes. “I think dying is just going home and you recognize it because a few times in life you got to taste it, like I did with you.”

Loras sat up and touched his slick brown hair. “Please don’t leave me.”

“You don’t have to be afraid of your own death or so angry at mine.” Renly suddenly opened his smiley eyes with concern. “Loras wake up!”

“No.”

“Now!”

“Why?”

“Wake up, you’re in danger!” Renly bounced Loras’ shoulders against the mattress. “Wake up!”

“No.”

“Where is he taking you?”

“What?” Loras coughed and struggled against restraints. He heard the door slam shut.

 

Reek rubbed his eyes. “What? What is it?” Alyn tore the bed sheets away.

“Hey! The fuck!” Reek tried to cover himself as Alyn pulled him off Ramsay’s bed. “WAIT!” Alyn took him three steps before the chain pulled him back and he fell, naked on his face. He rolled and grabbed his nose with both hands. “Owww! You fucking stupid asshole! I said to wait!”

“Uh,” Alyn croaked, sounding like he was swallowing back bile. Reek covered himself. His face became splotched with crimson. “Wait, Damon gave me his keys.”

“It’s the pink one.” Alyn just threw him the keys. Reek released his ankle. Alyn cleared his throat.

“Don’t,” Reek held up a hand and shook his head. He pulled some shorts on and looked over his shoulder. “Where’s the fire then?”

“I’m not fucking with you, man. Can’t you tell it’s an emergency?” Reek stared blankly. “Look at me; I’m freaking out.”

Reek raised his shoulders and winced a little. “I’m sorry, you just look pissed off like you always do.”

“Hurry up!” Alyn barked. Reek followed him downstairs, pulling at his collar. 


	2. Journey and Dirt

Alyn stopped at Roose’s study, hesitating.

“What _is it_?” Reek whispered.

Alyn pursed his mouth on one side and traced the molding around the ornate double Dutch doors with wide eyes. He looked to Reek as though he should have an answer, opened a door, and shoved him inside.

Ramsay was reclining in a leather chair, smoking a cigar. He turned with a wicked smile that soured instantly. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? What happened to your nose?”

“I don’t know!" Reek felt his nose and found blood on his hand when he pulled it away. "It was an accident. Alyn-“

Ramsay laughed and tapped the cigar on the ashtray beside him. Orange and yellow light danced on his sullen face. “Alyn. Fucking pussy. Go back to bed, pet.”

Reek took a step back, towards the door. “Why is he so scared of you?”

Ramsay grinned staring into the flames. “He’s not.”

“But-”

Ramsay slammed his hand into the leather arm and jumped up. “What did I just tell you? Go back to bed!"

“The doors, though… I thought,” he laid a hand on his miserable stomach, “I’m not supposed to..."

Ramsay smirked and puffed the cigar before putting it down. “I’m trying to create an atmosphere, and you’re ruining it.” He walked over to Reek then slid past him, biting the air in front of his nose. He opened the door. “ALYN!”

Alyn came into the doorframe. “What?”

“Take my boy back to bed.”

“No.” Alyn turned to Reek. “Tell him- make him stop.”

Reek looked at him with offense and amazement. “How in the hell could you possibly think that _I_ tell _him_ what to do?” He threw his hands up, his thin fingers splayed in the dark.

“Yeah, Alyn,” Ramsay giggled. “The fuck were you thinking?”

Alyn looked back and forth between them, wearing a sour expression. “I don’t know! Damon’s the one that handles you when you go bat shit, so now what am I supposed to do? I only know he throws _that_ at you,” he stared, furious, at Reek and gestured towards Ramsay with both hands, “SO FIX IT!”

“He ‘handles’ me? Is that what he says?” Ramsay’s lip curled. He bit his front teeth against each other. "Put Theon back where you found him then fuck off somewhere while the men talk, _Alyn_.”

They all turned hearing an exploding clap by the kitchen. “Shit!” Alyn grabbed Reek’s arms. “It’s too late.”

“ALYN!”

Alyn shoved Reek further into the room and tried to run out but Ramsay punched him hard enough in the eye to make him fall backwards.

“You fucking coward.” Ramsay spit on Alyn’s half conscious face. “You could’ve stayed out of it but you wanted to get involved. So _you_ stay. Reek, you go right now.” They all turned toward the door again hearing thunder rolling up the stairs, then more doors slamming.

“Fuck this.” Alyn scrambled to his knees and ran for the door.

“Come here!” Ramsay yelled, laughing. “Give us a hug, Alyn!”

“Fuck off, you crazy asshole!”

Reek just watched, locked in confusion as Ramsay wrestled Alyn in front of the only exit. “Ramsay, I-I can’t get out.”

Ramsay looked up and took a hit to his temple. “Go around, idiot!” He backhanded Alyn’s black eye and laughed wildly.

“ _Shut up! He’ll hear you_!”

Reek tried to inch around them and open the other door, but it wouldn’t move. He tried to hop over Ramsay’s back, just barely scraping him with the top of his good foot.

He looked back, unsure, then started heading through the dark house when a wall slammed into him. Hard heat constricted around his waist and lifted him, taking him back to the room. He grunted and gasped trying to find something to hold onto while he bumped and swung with each stride.

Reek saw Ramsay backing up on the fur rug and Alyn scrambling away in a flash before the dark wood floor flew back into view.  He groaned and wheezed at the unyielding pressure on his diaphragm.

“Where. Is. He.” Damon said through clenched teeth; so low yet so loud.

Ramsay tried to catch his breath and sat up. “Aw, Damon, you came to see me after all! Look at this, Alyn.” He pointed to Reek struggling in the crook of Damon’s arm. “Good plan. He could be safe in my room but, you were right, this is much better.”

“YOU!” Damon pointed to Alyn in the far corner of the study.

“No! I didn’t do it!”

“WHERE IS HE?” Damon came on like a juggernaut, carrying Reek with him as though he were a duffle bag.

“Damon! You don’t want to make a mess in my father’s study!" Ramsay called, chasing him.

“DON’T I?” Damon grabbed Ramsay’s shirt with one hand and threw him into a bookcase.

Books and a marble figure fell around Ramsay as he frowned. “We were supposed to have a nice, _calm_ , talk.”

Damon dropped Reek on the floor and grabbed his hair, forcing him to bend his neck back. “Stay!” Reek looked to Ramsay as soon as his head was free. Ramsay nodded, smiling a little, and climbed back up to standing. Damon grabbed Alyn who yelped and cowered as Damon held him up at eye level against the wall.

Reek began to think this couldn’t be real. Maybe it was another vision? Ramsay would be mad if he was having them again.

“ _Where is he, Alyn?"_ Damon's voice crashed down and filled the room shaking them all.

“In Ramsay’s garage somewhere.”

“You little bitch!” Ramsay folded his arms. “You ruined my whole fucking night, you know that?” Neither Damon nor Alyn seemed to hear his pouting.

“ _GO. GET. HIM_.” Damon leaned into Alyn. It almost looked like he was being made to put his nose in the corner, then Alyn flew out from under his elbow and through the door.

Reek looked to Ramsay again. He patted the air to suggest Reek stay still as if they were dealing with a wild animal. Damon spun around, huffing. He’d never seemed his full size before. Reek wondered how was he was never afraid until now.

 

_"Jesus motherfucking Christ, you dumb ass! Are you telling me you fucked Damon's girlfriend? The one he's still dating?"_

_"Well, yeah, just few times."_

_Ramsay's jaw dropped. "THEON!"_

_"What?!"_

_What in the fuck was I thinking?_

Ramsay leaned against the bookcase as if he was bored. “Well, so much for a nice chat.”

Damon walked towards him with clipped, measured steps. He turned back for an instant to shoot Reek an firey look over his shoulder. Reek’s back hit the wall. He grabbed onto the floor.

“You think you’d be safe in here because it’s your _father’s_ room? Do you even see the irony, or is that part of the joke?”

Ramsay strolled over to the armchair with his arms crossed. A bit of blood shined on his temple. “No, that’s not the point. The whole problem-”

“YOU CORPSE FUCKING BLOOD STREAKED SHITSTAIN! WHY LORAS?!”

Ramsay shrugged and stuck out his bottom lip a little, looking over at the fire. “Because it was his idea. Loras has all kinds of horrible ideas for you."

Damon picked up the armchair, roaring, and tried to bring it down on Ramsay.

“Fuck!” Ramsay leapt and rolled out of the way. The chair legs smashed and splintered. One arm of the chair contorted against the floor. Pieces of split wood cut through the leather. “Aw, shit!” Ramsay slammed his fist into the fur rug in front of the fireplace. “I am not taking the blame for that!"

Damon fell on Ramsay. He grabbed him by the neck with both hands and pulled him up off the floor by it. “You know how I would kill you? Just like this. This is all I have to do: choke you at arm's length.” Ramsay smiled even as he turned red. He tried to pull himself up by Damon’s wrists and kicked into his stomach.

“Damon!” His arm was pulled down. Ramsay’s broken Theon stared up at him with eyes so big he looked like a child. “Please! He didn’t kill Loras; he promised me he wouldn’t!”

Ramsay pushed against Damon’s stomach to propel his right leg up and around Damon’s neck, then pushed down on Damon’s neck and shoulder to lift his left leg up. He used his left knee to grab and pull his right ankle.

“You! Fuck!” Damon sputtered and sank on shaking knees.

Ramsay coughed and squealed with laughter. “Good plan,” he rasped. He spit and hacked. “I’m surrounded by winners!"

“Damon?” Loras stood in the doorway. Alyn peered over his shoulder then slunk back into the dim hallway. “What are you doing?”

Ramsay smiled weakly and winked at Damie. “I just wanted to talk.”


	3. I Was Only Joking

Loras couldn’t have even formed a guess as to what was happening.  He didn’t understand why or how he’d been thrown in the backseat of his car and left in a dark garage. Luckily, it didn’t take too long before Alyn came and worked at sawing through the rope on his wrists and ankles, swearing to himself under his breath. Loras followed Alyn back to the house unrestrained, which seemed like a good sign.

With no explanation from Alyn, he found Damon in a triangle hold as he strangled Ramsay on the white fur rug in Roose’s wrecked study. Damon’s swollen head was swooning.  “You ok?” He turned to Ramsay and slurred, “Get off of me!”

“Well, let go of my neck!”

“Get off of my neck!”

“Get off of me!” Ramsay snapped. He licked his lips and the corner of his mouth rose while the fire’s dance painted his struggle. “Or go to sleep. You look tired. We’ll talk in the-” Ramsay was interrupted by Loras’ hand smacking his face. He unwrapped his legs and sat up, gaping at Loras. “Did you just …”

“You’re being a lunatic. That’s a dangerous hold and you’re not paying attention.”

Damon released Ramsay and fell onto all fours. His color was returning to normal already. He slowly sat up and gripped the top of his head, kneading fingers against his skull. “Did he hurt you?”

Loras looked at Ramsay for a moment to let him know he was choosing not to say what he could if he wanted to. “Nope. Not at all.”

Ramsay titled his head then smiled sweetly at Damon. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I got the message.” He didn’t stop staring at Loras long enough to even glance at Ramsay. “I thought I’d find you sleeping in the apartment but the bed was made and our itinerary was printed out and left on your pillow.”

“I wanted to have a talk about your trip.”

Damon stood up. “A hostage negotiation. I see.” Damon rubbed his face with both hands. He rubbed Loras’ back and pushed him forward. “We’re leaving now. You have everything you need in the car?”

Loras nodded. “Bye, Theon.” He waved sadly. “See you in two weeks.”

“Damon,” Ramsay pulled his arm back with both hands but was pulled along out the door. “Stop!”

“No. You could have talked to me like a fucking person. I can’t,” he stopped and grabbed Ramsay by the shoulders, “even look at you right now. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“STOP! Damon!” Ramsay ran around and blocked him. “Don’t do it! You didn’t ask how I would feel! You didn’t even tell me!”

“But you found out anyway, fuck! Do you even see what you’re doing and connect that with the fact that I can’t talk to you about this? How _you_ would feel? It’s my life. If I want to meet or not meet him, that’s my shit for me to figure out. Loras and I are still doing that job for _your_ father that _you’ve always had_.” Damon closed his eyes and let them rest while his chest heaved.

“It will be ok,” Loras whispered and grabbed his arm.

“YOU BITCH!” Ramsay lunged for Loras grabbing a handful of hair before Damon caught him. “YOU CAN’T-”

“ _RAMSAY_!”

"-TAKE HIM-”

“Ramsay, please, please, stop-”

“-FROM ME! YOU WHORE!” They all wrestled and banged against the walls in the hallway.

"Let go! Ah! Ow! You fucking maniac!”

“Hey!” Ramsay twisted his neck to look at his shoulder, raising a suspicious eyebrow. Lifting his chin he found Alyn looking smug. “That was for Loras, asshole. Can’t you follow directions?”

 

Damon carried Ramsay to his room. He sat at the foot of the bed while Ramsay drooled on his pillow. Damon rubbed his chin and looked at little Theon who seemed a little smaller and sharper each day. “You think you’ll be ok?”

His charming smile bore a tragic weight. “Yeah. I’ll talk to him.” Theon touched Ramsay’s knee. He looked so tired. “Ramsay’s, you know, hurt and scared.” He peered over at Damon without turning his head. “I thought… aren’t you coming back?”

“Yeah.”

“It's your father... that you’re meeting?”

“Probably."

“I hope it goes well.” Theon peered back at Ramsay and sighed. “It wasn’t great when I met my biological father again. I’m still glad I did though, I think. Maybe its better to know you tried instead of wondering?” Theon shrugged.

“You should come with us," Loras declared, grabbing his hand.

“No.” Damon answered. He stood and the mattress sprang back up.

“This is the perfect time! We can leave! We can all leave and save Theon! This is the time for all of us to get away from Ramsay forever.”

“Alyn?”

Alyn leaned in from the doorway. “What?”

“You have another syringe?”

Alyn smirked. Loras crossed his arms. “Yeah, that’s great. I haven’t been through enough for two in the fucking morning.”

“I can’t leave.” Theon smiled and yawned. “I hope you both find what you’re looking for. Good luck on your trip.”

Loras hurled himself onto Theon. Damon and Alyn both froze for an instant but Ramsay was out cold. “Bye, Theon. _I promise to come back for you._ ”

“ _I told you not to, buddy_. Be careful, ok?”

Damon gently pulled Loras away and off the bed. He gave Theon a quick hug and patted his back. Ramsay's broken boy was stiff and shaky in Damon’s arms as he whispered his goodbye. Bones poked out of his thin skin. Damon might need to mention his weight to Roose but there had to be a better time to do so. As he left the room with Loras behind him, Alyn jumped back from the doorway.

“It’s alright,” he said in a low but magnanimous voice. “Come here.” He hugged Alyn and rubbed his buzzed hair. “Hey,” Alyn looked up, “be good and be careful. Call if you need anything, understand?”

“Yeah.”

He punched Alyn’s arm. Alyn smiled. Then he left with Loras in the middle of the night while Ramsay dreamt his way through a collage of memories.

 


	4. Whatever Words

She smelled like sweet berries and vanilla. His mother’s coat enveloped his short, stout frame and pulled him off the icy ground. “I love you, sweetheart. I’ll miss you so much.” He inhaled deeply. Soft fur tickled the inside of his nose.

She set him down and looked into his big eyes; his sharp, clear eyes, his expressive eyes, his laughing eyes, his red and shining eyes. She had carried and nursed him. She had spent more sleepless nights than she thought she could live through crying over him. She had been the one to sing to him and laugh at his stories and impressions. She had been the one to snuggle him and kiss his soft, fat cheek every morning when he crawled into her bed. She’d been the one to run and hide from him. She’d been the one who tried everything, who gave everything, who’d been broken on her love of their son. Still, she stared at his mercurial face and saw what she had seen since he was pulled from where he first tore her; they were his father’s eyes.

Headlights swept across her crumbling beauty. She looked up and steeled herself, then turned back to her little boy. “Ramsay, if you stay with me, they tell me you’ll end up in jail or worse. He says he could give you everything.” The car door shut in her driveway. “It’s not too late, baby. Don’t you think you can _try_ to be good? Would you rather live in that big house with all these doors and roads open to you? I just want what’s best, my love, and I don’t know how to choose for you.”

He turned Ramsay’s shoulder away from her teary face with a hard grip.

“Ramsay?” She stood as he turned away. “I love you.”

Ramsay stopped and looked back. “I”

“Don’t,” Roose corrected him. “You’re better than that.” His car was new and luxurious. It was going home to riches and power. “Or did I make a mistake?” A silver door opened to the backseat.

“Ramsay?” She was afraid to come any closer to the nightmare man gripping him. She was a sweet but fragile thing. He’d miss her loud clangs of laughter and warm hugs.

“Goodbye, mum.” 

*** 

 

He rolled through silk sheets with a headful of storm clouds. Heavy eyelids stuck together. His mouth was dry and tasted bitter. Ramsay sat up and spun to his side. His Reek was there. His hair bounced off and fell back on to the pillow. His jaw was hanging open. The cuff was locked back onto his ankle. Ramsay smiled. Then he snarled and jumped out of bed.

Alyn had found where the coolant was leaking from and cut out the torn hose. He was tightening a clamp when the door to Ramsay's wing slammed. Alyn peered around the hood and grabbed a rag.

“You’re not leaving, are you?”

“Should I?” Alyn tried to quickly wipe down the thick grease on his hands and smirked. “I bet you wish you knew how to install a starter.” Ramsay brandished his butterfly knife with a flick and twirl. Alyn laughed and swiped his tort wrench off the manifold. “Why did you want me to reinstall Loras' remote starter?”

“They were going to take his car-”

“Up and down the coast? All the way to the border? Bullshit. It pisses away gasoline like an old man with a prostate tumor. Even Princess would know better. You know I found him in his car, in this garage.”

“It can be dangerous to know things Alyn.” Ramsay followed Alyn around the car.

“How long did it take you to roll up all my towels?”

Ramsay snorted. “ _Your_ towels?”

“Yeah, and _my_ garage. Damon’s new project isn’t going to die in _my fucking garage._ ”

Ramsay’s pace slowed to a saunter. He looked around pursing his lips. “I wasn’t actually going to kill him. Come on.”

“Sure. Come on. I think I should install vents in here though, just for fun.”

“I just needed some leverage so I could renegotiate my position.”

Alyn stopped. “But… did Loras threaten you?”

Ramsay stopped and leaned against the workbench. “Twice. I made a mistake yesterday and shit went downhill from there.”


	5. Get Together

A few days ago I went looking for Damon at his place. I found the apartment torn apart. The flat screen was smashed in, the sink had been ripped out, a painting was missing, there was shattered glass in a dustpan, and cracks in the plaster. A single cheerio crunched under my foot. The tile was so sticky it made a kind of suction tearing sound when I took a step back. I knew what would have make Damon go that crazy.

_“Finally!” Ramsay exclaimed bending back and throwing his arms up._

I made some comment or maybe I sighed like I was relieved. I should’ve paid attention. There were signs everywhere that someone had started cleaning up and it clearly wasn’t Damon.

_“Finally?” Loras repeated stepping out into the hall._

That little whore heard me and tried to make it into something.

 _“What does that mean?” Loras leaned the mop in his hand against the wall and came closer with his hands patting his sides and his head tilted slightly. “You wouldn’t be … happy that Damon’s little sister died… would you?”_  
_“No,” Ramsay snapped, just as he saw his mistake. “Wait, Lysie’s dead?”_  
_Loras smiled. “You really do want him all to yourself, huh? So, you’ve been waiting for her to die. That’s good to know.”_

I found myself… hurt by his accusations. I did like Lysie, really. She’d coming running to see me and so many times she’d trip over or smash into something in her excitement. If I made her a cd or playlist she’d give me a full, ecstatic, review next time I saw her, even if months had passed. She had a lot of problems because of her condition. She’d been rushed to ER several times for heart and kidney issues. Just because I didn’t want Damon keep going through that anxiety and heartache doesn’t mean I didn’t like Lysie. Just because I was relieved, it doesn’t mean I wasn’t a little sad.

  
“You know what’s ironic? Lysie could have told Damon how I was really feeling with one look. She was a little lie detector. Maybe she told him I liked her…” Ramsay stared at the toe of his tennis shoe as he wiggled it back and forth.

  
“Even I liked her,” Alyn mumbled. He was sitting on his workbench, far enough from Ramsay to relax a little. He still gripped his torque wrench in his right hand. “- and I hate all you fucks. Throw me a beer?”

  
Ramsay pinched a can of bud light between his thumb and forefinger and turned up his nose before tossing it over. “Or I could piss in your mouth and do you a favor.”

  
“You were going to kill him because he thought you didn't care about Lysie?” Alyn said cooly through clenched teeth. He popped the tab with a metallic crack and whoosh. Foam bubbled out like a swarm of fire ants erupting from a threatened hill.

“No.”

 _“Did you help make it happen?”_  
_“Of course not! How could I? She was hundreds of miles away!”_  
_Loras shrugged. “Just seems suspicious. Her grandmother whom she’d never met was so dead set on her being cremated, almost like she was hiding something.”_  
_“You know that sounds just as insane as it actually is. Damon’s mother probably left her alone in a motel so she could get shit-faced or, crashed the car, or just didn’t give Lysie her-“_  
_“Oh, I know. I know you’d never hurt Damon. You’re my friend, right? I could never be friends with someone I thought would do that. Damon would inevitably come to sensible conclusion that you’re entirely innocent of this one crime but, if he were to think… I mean… look at what he did the apartment and he knew what was coming. I think we’d better not share your relief at his loss. He might act irrationally and do things he couldn’t undo when once he’d calmed down and thought things through.”_  
_“What the fuck do you want, Loras?” Ramsay was gritting his teeth so hard, his temples throbbed._  
_“I’m just doing you a favor, because we’re friends and I trust you.”_  
_“Uh huh.”_  
_Loras swept his hands behind his back and pushed his shoulder into the wall. He smiled like he meant it. He must not have known Ramsay could already taste his hot blood. “Maybe you could extend me the same courtesy? Just stay out of our trip together. It’s only two weeks; surely you can let Damon go for that long.” Loras looked around the apartment as if waking up. “I’d better get back to cleaning up. Did you want to help?” He looked up to find the door slamming shut._

“He tried to blackmail me; turn a blind eye to the trip or I’ll plant the idea that you killed Lysie.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Yeah. So, I immediately remotely accessed Loras’ laptop and found he’d been emailing this guy he thinks is Damon’s father. He put this guys address into their itinerary.”

Alyn stopped drinking his beer when Ramsay kept staring expectantly. “Oh.”

“Don’t you see what he’s doing?! He doesn’t want Damon to come back! He’s trying to make Damon a new family so he can forget all about me!”

Alyn rubbed a rag around his hands and wrists. “Hmm.”

“If I hadn’t been interrupted, _Alyn_ , Damon would have come into the study all, ‘RAH WHERE LORAS? DAMON SMASH!’ ‘Safe,’ I’d say swirling brandy and smoking a cigar in front of the fire, “for now.’ Then I’d take out Loras’ remote starter. ‘Do you know what I can do with this? Sit down and I’ll tell you.’ But instead of Damon Hulking through the door, Theon is thrown in, bewildered, and taken hostage while you ran to the garage to undo everything.”

“My garage,” Alyn spat.

Ramsay jumped to his feet. “Who gave it to you?”

Alyn hopped off the workbench. “I’d never agree to go behind Damon’s back. You said he threatened you again?” Alyn brandished the wrench and backed up.

“When Damon asked if I hurt. He paused and looked at me like, ‘he’d believe whatever I tell him.’” Ramsay started to shine with excitement.

“I don’t know you still sound pretty crazy but he’s an idiot if he threatened you. I’m not doing anything behind Damon’s back.”

“Oh, I know. I also know you like having Loras around to keep Damon distracted but, don’t you ever get a little jealous?”

Alyn stopped backing up and ran forward, bringing the wrench soaring along with him.


	6. Who Taught You to Torture?

In the middle of the night Reek woke up coughing. “Ramsay?” He shook his shoulder a little. “ _Ramsay_?”

“Hnng.”

“Can I get some water?”

“Mm.” Ramsay rummaged through his nightstand and flung a key ring in Reek’s direction.

“Thanks.”

“Bring it up, and an ice pack,” Ramsay grumbled.

“Ok. Yes, I will,” he whispered, while his fingers fumbled around the little metal keys in the dark.

 

He’d just reached the landing with a clinking glass of ice water and ice pack wrapped in a paper towel when the hallway bathroom door opened. Alyn came out with one hand clutching a towel around his waist and one hand stretched out in front of him to feel around the dark.

He turned to head in to Domeric’s old room at the end of the hall. His entire back was a mess of raised thick white silky slashes, thinning out just at the ends. It was so thick in the middle, it became a lumpy mass. 

“Shit!”

Alyn spun and threw his hand against the wall. He squinted and leaned forward, peering with his left eye. The right was swollen shut. His forarms and chest were bandaged. The purple ball of flesh surrounding his eye was bleeding into gauze through a cut down the side. “Oh. It’s just you.”

“What happened?”

“Ramsay.” Alyn sneered at him incredulously. “Like _you_ don’t know.”

“Your back…” Reek knew as he heard himself talking how little he liked people to notice his own scars but Alyn had seen them and that must make it better. “Why would he do that?”

Alyn furrowed the side of his brow that still could. He looked at Ramsay’s door and back to Reek. He almost smiled. “He didn’t.” Before he slipped into the haunted room he’d taken over, he frowned at Reek still standing there. “Don’t make him wait, bitch.” He smacked the door into its frame.

TheY all liked to say shit like that to Reek after Ramsay had humiliated them, but never when Ramsay was around to hear it. None of his boys would dare to hurt Reek. He’d like to think most didn’t really want to either. Damon was only one he truly trusted and liked. Damon felt like the kind of big brother he'd always wished he had. He'd like to think maybe Maron had ruffled his hair or laughed at his joke. Maybe Rodrick caught him when he stumbled or pushed his plate closer and told him to finish eating, like it mattered if he lived or died.

He treated everyone according to an inner code, written into his DNA, it seemed.  He never tried to be a dick to the others just to prove he could. He never asserted himself for shits and giggles. Reek had always thought it was due to his innate gentleness but now he wondered if there was another reason; maybe he knew there was no reason to assert himself. Maybe he was confident that everyone knew and if they didn’t it would be nothing to correct them.

*** 

Alyn was eleven would someone finally took an interest in him. Most of his young life had been spent alone and he didn’t mind that very much. Adults were lumbering zombies; open sores, unnatural pallor, dead eyes, stringy hair. They cry, they tie tubes and strings around their arms, the puke a lot, but mostly, when they came into his trailer, they lay undead on piles of filth and blankets.

He didn’t know when he’d been left here with them or what had happened to make them this way. There was an enormous television in the room he took whenever it was empty. It had a thin metal V that stretched towards the ceiling. He could turn the clicky dial and watch different shows and movies. A whole universe came through the box. He learned the letter V from singing monsters on Sesame Street.

Television allowed him to witness fairy tail lives in clean places with happy people who were always awake and always made sense. One night he saw black and white footage about a lady who went to a cemetery with her brother. A shambling man with sunken eyes and dirty clothes growled after her. He didn’t make sense or say nice things. He didn’t want to hug or laugh, sing the ABC’s, or have a heart to heart at the foot of her princess bed while music played.

Alyn knew his world had broken into the television.

Sometimes there would be food around the trailer to pick out of paper bags and Styrofoam boxes. Most days he wondered the park early in the morning and found an unopened door. He was always good at fixing things and he got very good at picking locks. He had all the time in the world to practice and it felt like opening a treasure chest each time he heard that wonderful click and felt the door give. He’d try to take food the kitchen had a lot of so it wouldn’t be missed. Sometimes he’d take a cool gadget lying under a table or in a messy corner so he could take it apart and try to put it back together.

One night, just before dawn, he tried a new trailer he’d been watching. A zombie lady came in and out of it but she’d been gone since early last night and there was no way she’d come back until well after noon. No one here moved in the morning unless they were a partial zombie, like the man with a singsong voice whose legs fell off before they could infect the rest of him. He had a stiff brown jacket with shiny pins and long rectangles on one side of his chest, or the lady who tapped a long stick everywhere to keep the zombies away. Alyn thought she got zombie blood in her eyes and had to take them out to save her brain.

No one was out that morning, the birds weren’t even singing yet. He went through a side door after putting the carpeted shell of an old speaker in place of missing stairs.

He shut the door slowly behind him and shoved a hanging towel aside to look out the little window. A spider ran in front of him but it was on the other side of the screen. Other than that, the park was empty. He easily made his way to the kitchen, surprised by how uncluttered this place was.

“Hello!”

He froze and slowly turned around.

“Hi! I’m Lysie! What’s your name?” She was a tiny little elf with a huge smile. She walked around him. “Why are you scared? Don’t be scared of me, silly! That’s adicalus!” She giggled.

“Are you alone?”

“Yeah but my giant Diamond will come! He does! He does! He says ‘Whaaaat! She left you againnnn!’ and I say, ‘Be nice, Diamond!’ Are you alone?”

“Yeah.” He sat on the kitchen floor. “I just wanted some food. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I scared you!” She giggled and started skipping around. “Yeah, yeah, friend! Get some food! Get some food! Do you like hot dogs? Can you use mic-a-waves?”

“How old are you?”

“A hand! A whollllle hand! What music do you like?”

“Um, Lysie, do you have a family?”

“Yeah! Amember? My giant Diamond!”

Suddenly the trailer exploded beside him. He ducked and covered the little girl. She wiggled out of his arms. He looked around, seeing no smoke or debris but the door he’d come through sticking out of the hallway at an angle.

“No, Diamond!" She hopped in front of Alyn. "No big noises! No hurting my friend!”

“GO TO YOUR ROOM!” Alyn cowered under the booming voice from high above him. It seemed to bounce off the walls.

“Too loud! Please!” She was starting to cry. This was it. Maybe he was a cop who thought Alyn was a zombie and now he’d shoot Alyn right in the head.

“ **NOW!** ”

She ran down the hall, crying pitifully as Alyn was lifted high by the neck of his tank top and a pitcher’s mitt of a hand around his throat.

He kicked his legs out uselessly and shook. _This is it,_ he told himself and found he didn’t want to die yet. “Shit!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning of your chapters, nanjcsy!


	7. Born to Bring Trouble

Lysie was crying somewhere far away. Alyn could barely hear her over the ocean roar of blood in his ears. He thought his head would burst soon; splatter and ooze like melted red crayon. He had no great plan or flash of insight, he saw no angels, and waited for no masked super heroes. He was white hot screaming inside _I don’t want to die._

It seemed like forever, but it must have just been a few seconds then the trailer wall went flying by like a bullet train and by the time he understood he was the one flying, the floor rolled around smacking him three times before he hit a chair that smelled like menthol cigarettes and stopped at last.

He gulped miraculous air into his burning lungs. The bottom front of the chair popped out a little, making him wobble and fall onto his side as he tried to climb the floor. Heavy footsteps were pounding behind him. He fled behind the chair without knowing how or why. He was in survival mode. His thoughts were very quiet so reaction took over while he watched the fat chair rise and dive away from him. He really was a giant. He tore through space cutting from the floor to the ceiling while Alyn scrambled away backwards, so slow.

“Get up.” The giant’s eyes were sharply focused. His skin was clean, clear, and looked golden brown to Alyn. It dawned on him as his limbs tensed to run, that a man from the TV world had come to kill him for opening a portal that let the zombies in. “I said get the fuck up.” The giant grabbed his belt buckle with both hands and Alyn bolted for the hole where a door used to be. The giant leaped over the couch just as Alyn rounded it’s corner and slammed into the floor in front of him like a fallen boulder. Alyn slid between his legs and kicked against the carpet stretching his fingers out towards the door frame. There was a thud shaking the thin floor just behind him and his shorts were caught at his knee. He wiggled and climbed against the rough carpet towards his escape.

Alyn pushed in his ass and swayed his hip the right way and slid right through his shorts, hitting his knees and palms hard and fast against the floor until he found himself falling headfirst to the speaker case he’d used to make the mistake he was sure would end his life. He was dizzy and deaf when he found his feet again. 

It never occurred to him to scream for help. In fact, it would never occur to him in his nightmares or when remembering, and if someone were to suggest it to him, it would seem even more absurd than giants, zombies, or magic portals to orderly fairytale worlds.

Before he could take one step on the dewy, balding grass, the giant sucked him back up into his trailer. He had Alyn wrapped in one python arm and carried him down the hall. Fire veins. Ice skin. Shaking, shaking, shaking. His heart was tight and consumed with cold flames. He felt sick because he was spinning and his acid stomach wanted to stop. He kicked and squirmed and remembered how flies looked when he would dispassionately remove their wings and legs.

He was hurled onto a mattress, where he bounced and rolled onto the floor. He got up on his knees and saw the giant had his belt in his hand but behind his head there were far worse things and Alyn feared this room with those weapons more than dying itself. the inside of his ice leg was suddenly very hot.

He gasped and jumped back. “Don’t kill me, mister.”

The giant stopped. His eyebrows came together and he looked at Alyn differently. “You’re just a fucking kid.”

Alyn nodded.

“I’m not going to kill you.”

Alyn grunted and fell forward. He realized he smelled piss.

“Cover your head and try not to move.”

The first hit was such a shock it didn’t even hurt. “Tell me why you broke in to my home.”

“Food.”

The second hit didn’t hurt either. He was swept away thinking that the hits will never stop and wondering what would happen if they did.

“Do you understand why I’m hitting you?” He voice filled everything and erased Alyn’s thoughts.

The third time landed across his back instead of his ass. Air shot through his gritted teeth. “Ugh…”

“This is my home you came into without asking while my little sister was here alone and defenseless.”

The fourth made him gasp. His eyes bulged out. He held his head tighter. He imagined the stripes on his back glowing the way they pulsed and radiated heat.

“You’re a tough little kid. You’re not going to cry or beg?” Alyn peered up through white knuckles. “Say you’re sorry.”

Alyn screamed when the belt wrapped around and hit his ribs. He put his nose to the ground and screwed his eyes tightly shut. “I’m sorry.”

“You say that so flatly. I don’t believe you.”

“I’ve never done this before!” Alyn protested looking up from under his wrist.

A grin spread over the giant’s face. “Fuck. No one’s taught you anything, huh? You’re practically fucking feral.”

Alyn’s eyes burned, which was so stupid it made him angry. “I don’t know what that means.”

“It means you need your shit realigned or you’ll be shanked in prison before you turn twenty." He took a coiled black snake off the wall. Alyn glanced at the door. The giant shut it. “That would make things worse. Now tell me you’re sorry like you fucking mean it.” He squeezed the whip, seeming to enjoy the sensation.

“I’m sorry,” Alyn said loudly.

The giant didn’t seem any calmer. That little girl was crying. That was more horrible than anything. “Cover your head and stay as still as you can.”

Alyn groaned then went dumb with pain. It seemed to sparkle around his eyes. He heard himself screaming. The little girl screamed back on the other side of the thin wall.

“Say it.”

“YOU’RE SCARING HER!” He yelled into the floor. Everything froze. He could feel it. He peeked up, unable to breathe. The giant’s chest was heaving and his face was grim.

 _I’m going to die. Be quick! Be quick!_ Alyn sucked in air but felt like he was choking until a howl came ripping out of him. “ _I’M SORR-RRY_ ,” he was screaming. “I’M SORRY! PLEASE!”

“Good. Don’t you fucking move.” Something dropped and he left shutting the door behind him.

Alyn gasped and drooled. Each time he exhaled he made an animal noise and wondered if he was dying after all. Blood warmed and tickled his back. His tank top was clinging to where it was soaked.

He heard the giant’s voice so soft and patient. Lysie’s little voice was answering shaky and small. Alyn could tell he was saying nice things like they did in the television. She was calming down. Alyn understood he was protecting the little elf girl. Maybe he did think Alyn was a zombie after all. Maybe that’s what ‘feral’ meant. While Alyn sucked air against the floor, they started restoring their life. He didn’t mean to soil it.

The door opened and he curled into a ball. His back roared where he bent the cuts open but he was only breathing loud and fast against the floor; he didn’t scream.

The giant’s voice was so close he flinched. “How old are you?”

Alyn shook his head under his clasped hands.

“Use your words. How old are you.”

“Thirteen,” he guessed.

“Bullshit. I’m fourteen.”

Alyn uncovered his head and looked up.  The giant was kneeling right next to him. “You’re n-not grown?” The last syllable hung between his chattering teeth too long.

“Uh, no. Probably not.”

“How b-big do you g-g-get?”

“Fuck. You really are just a little kid. What are you, nine? Come here,” he said gently.

“You don’t hafta kill me, mister. I didn’t know that little girl was here.”

The giant looked at him very sadly. “You sound like a bad impression of a street urchin. Christ. Don’t you have anybody?”

“Yeah. My dad’s an architect. I’ll tell him I was bad and he’ll talk to me in the living room. I’ll never come back.”

“I’m Damon. What’s your name?’

“Alyn.”

“What’s your father’s name?”

“M-M-Mike.”

The giant stood up. “Mike what?”

“Brady.”

“I see.” He bent down and reached for Alyn who tried to sprint away but cried out as he tore his back further. “Stop.” Damon smacked his ass with his hand. It made him feel mad and small. Bleeding was something he was better prepared for even it hurt so much worse. “Do you hear me?”

“S-stop what?”

“Moving. I know you want to run but you can’t. You’ll only hurt yourself.”

“I-I won’t tell anyone you hurt me! I s-swear, mister!”

“Sir,” Damon corrected. He sighed. “Fuck. Everything you say is a Dickensian tragedy in a jumble of nonsense. I’m not scared that you’ll tell on me to Mr. Brady, Alyn.” His hands wrapped around Alyn’s arms until his thumbs touched his forefingers. He lifted Alyn slowly. “Look, I fucked up, kid. You’re too fucking malnourished to be cut like that. We have to clean you up and take you a doctor.”

“No! I can’t! I d-don’t-”

“I’m not asking.” Damon pulled him closer.

Alyn panicked and struggled uselessly. “LET ME GO!”

“Shh. That’s enough yelling tonight.”

“Let me go. I have infected blood! You better get me out of here before-”

Damon pressed Alyn’s face into his chest and rubbed his the back of his head. Alyn shook lost the ability to think anything. His chest caved in, the stripes on his back burst a little more, and he started weeping with hot tears and everything.

“Alright, buddy,” the big voice said sweetly next to his ear.

He was taken into a bathroom. He hugged himself on the counter, numb and confused. Damon left and came back with a little black box. “Ok, close your eyes. Just a little pinch.”


	8. Black Will Turn to Red

Reek was poking at his oatmeal trying to summon the will to shove a spoonful past his mouth.

Ramsay was sitting on the kitchen counter texting Damon, who hadn’t answered. “I’m fucking bored. What do you want to do?” The swelling on his nose had gone down considerably, but it still looked and sounded like he had a terrible cold. Reek smirked. “What?” Ramsay demanded.

“Well, I have work to do,” Alyn announced dryly with a mouthful of toast.

“' _Well_ ,  _I have work to do_.’ Do you lube that twisted tree branch before you shove it up your ass every day?”

Alyn frowned at Ramsay and went back to staring at Reek like he had been all morning.

Reek pulled at a loose string on his jeans and poked at his oatmeal.

“You wanna see a movie? I need to get out of here before I kill one of you.”

“I want to see a movie!” Reek said, sitting up. “What did _I_ do?”

Ramsay shrugged. “I’ll see if Jeyne or Luton want to go.”

“What about Skinner?” Reek suggested.

“Who’s Skinner, you’re fucking boyfriend? Don’t talk to me about that asshole.” Ramsay didn’t look up from his phone as he was yelling. “That balding dick knob can pick the lice out of his fucking crotch rot.”

“Ramsay disowns someone for life about once a month. It’s been Skinner's turn, like, twenty times Now. Dick holds the record for lifetime bans.” Alyn almost smiled.

Reek couldn’t hide his surprise. That was the most Alyn ever said to him; the most he'd ever heard Alyn say.

“Then I banned him from living. I never disowned you, sweetie. Oh, Jeyne says she can go!”

“No not you,” Alyn said matter-of-factly and drank more black coffee. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Of course not him! I was talking to  _you_ , dumbass.” Alyn looked away at last with a huff. Reek couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed, or flattered, or both. He cleared his throat. “I can pick her up. If that chic needs a ride or whatever.”

“Cool. Thanks, man.”

Ramsay tried not to smile but Reek could tell he was. He sighed and pushed his bowl away. When he looked up, Alyn was staring at him again. He looked to Ramsay for help.

"Well, fuck me! Luton’s coming!” Ramsay grinned at his phone, seemingly oblivious; which Reek also saw through.

He tried looking around the kitchen as if there was something interesting to see that he hadn’t yet found. Finally, he stared back at Alyn then gulped and softly asked, “What?”

Alyn slammed his fist on the table. Reek jumped and Ramsay smirked. “ _YOU_ WHAT!” He yelled, leaning in. Then he stomped off.

“Hey! Hurry back with Jeyne! We’re leaving in an hour!” Ramsay called, leaning after him. He turned to Reek and laughed at his white face. “He likes you.”

Reek rubbed his head. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.” Ramsay just smiled.

Reek leaned over to see if Alyn was really gone. “Last night, when I went to get water,” he whispered and Ramsay looked up immediately, “I saw him... uh, his back.”

Ramsay looked down at his phone and nodded slightly. “Ah.” He finished texting something then peered up again, considering things. Hopping off the counter, he came up behind Reek and played with his hair, the corner of his mouth rising like the sun. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t joking. There are three people in the world I would trust you with and he’s one of them.”

 

***

 

Alyn’s mouth was dry and sour when he came to in a bright room. It reminded him on when he tried a menthol cigarette.

A zombie with long hair and glasses that they called Darwin gave it to him. He wouldn’t let Alyn get through the tight hallway until he tried it. At first Darwin teetered and sunk in slow motion to the floor because Alyn’s coughs were so funny. Then he got mad as if Alyn had robbed him.

That’s how they were. Zombies always had a new plan that would change things and it never worked because they never really started. They proclaimed obscene love for one another, they cried like they were dying all over again, and roared over things that made no sense.

“WHERE’S MY JACKET?” Darwin would stumble through the trailer screaming at no one. “YOU NEVER WANT ME TO HAVE ANYTHING _I LIKE!_ ” He must have been acting out scenes from his previous life.

Courtney did that too. She had yellowed white hair with mud colored roots. Sometimes she would want to get close with her arms outstretched to Alyn and call him Frankie. Whoever Frankie was, she cried about him a lot.

Others came and went. He didn’t learn most of their names. Usually, the zombies would leave Alyn alone while they went out trying to score from some fucker. That meant trying to meet a victim, at a bus stop, in a car, a hotel, stairwell, apartment or parking lot with no cameras. Victims were late and backed out a lot and that made the zombies insane with hunger.

There was one with tight pulled back brown locks who wore pink sweatpants. She would bring Alyn sweet brightly colored treats sometimes. She didn’t want to touch him, only babble sloppily with rolling eyes, drift off, and babble again. She would tell him that she was quitting ‘after this’ and did stop coming back one day, but he didn’t think you could 'quit' being a zombie. A cop probably put one through her head. The thought made him a little sad, but it was probably for the best.

The other skeleton women with chimney mouths liked to touch and pet him, just like Courtney did. Cooing could switch instantly into crying, babbling, or screaming so he never fell for it. He’d made it without being bitten this long by staying quiet and out of sight. Rising in the morning and only sleeping from where he could easily escape.

So when he woke up in an enormous room with clean, sharp, rocky looking walls, a high ceiling, and a stingy smell in the air, Alyn didn’t panic. He assessed the situation quietly and looked for the quickest way out. He had a big napkin shirt on, and realized he was being prepared for something. There were wires in his arms, and a faceless robot beeping and humming beside the clean bed holding him. He took a deep breath and ripped the wires out without making a sound. There was one more wire pulling against his thigh when he sat up all the way. He pulled the sheets away with an unsteady hand and just barely stifled a scream. That tube was the hardest to pull out. It only hurt at the very end when it felt like a bee stung the hole in his dick, but the sensation was enough to make him dry heave.

When his sweaty head stopped spinning, he removed a clip from his finger. That one didn’t hurt at all but it was the thing that set off an alarm, just as he freed himself from the bed. He ran to the window and tried his best to open it but it wouldn’t move. It wasn’t broken into moving parts like other windows. A door opened and he dived under the bed.  The damn napkin shirt crinkled so loudly he was afraid to breathe. He very slowly felt the back and released a little metal snap, letting it fall off him while the beeping continued.

He watched white sneakers with thick soles run to the faceless robot then he darted out, keeping low. Alyn came out into a hallway and crept along the wall until he found a stairwell to slink into. People ran past the crisscrossed wires in the door’s little window.

Of course his instinct was to go down the stairs but that’s what they’d expect if they were looking for him. He ran up three flights of stairs and peered out the little window, happy to find an empty office suite. He poked his head out and listened, then darted down the hall, rolling his bare feet on the carpet and grabbing himself more for comfort than modesty. He searched for another stairwell; they’d look in the one he’d just left first. If could escape on the other side of the building, he might have a chance.

He found an emergency exit and wondered if it would be worth setting off the alarm and causing confusion. They would already be looking for him, so he figured there couldn’t be much to lose and pushed though the door. Lights flashed in the stairwell and a buzzing roared up and faded out over and over as he hopped down from one landing to another.

Alyn smiled a little at the air rushing past him. He’s only seen stairs on television and always wondered if he could do things like this in real life.  After eight floors he hit the bottom and opened the door to a humid garage that smelled vaguely of gasoline. It spread all over in front of him. His whole world could fit in here. The cars were so shiny and complete but he couldn't afford to stop and look them over.

As he ran he considered there might be cameras here. He knew cameras mean getting caught, and places where cars are left have them. Still, he was out of the building and quickly putting that awful room behind him. He ran in between two rows of cars, hopping onto and off of a hood in blocking his path, and that was when his foot landed the wrong way.

He sucked air in through his teeth and carried on, hopping his way out, landing gingerly on the ball of his hurt foot when he couldn’t help it. A cop car came around the corner a head flashing its lights silently. Alyn ducked, hitting his bare knee against a rock. He bit down on his thumb nail and looked around, moving only his eyes. A car door shut and footsteps echoed behind him. There was a fuzzy flash of a buzz and then a man asked, “Are you sure he’s down here?”

Another buzzing flash and a robot voice answered, “Yeah, he went down row 3 and we lost visual, over.”

There were cameras!

“Alright, I copy,” the man said more softly, as if the cave of a garage didn’t amplify and echo everything. “Alyn? Are you in here? You’re not in trouble.” Footsteps and their doubles got further away. “You just need help.”

Alyn started creeping towards the opening where sunshine poured in. He had to get out of ‘row three’ then make it outside. then he could hide somewhere until dark and go find a clothing donation bin he had a chance of picking.

“Alyn? You don’t have to be scared but you do have to come back.” He buzzed the air again and lowered his voice uselessly. “Are you bringing the guy around? He won’t come out.”

He crawled along the side of a white Le Sabre to peek out and saw another set of flashing lights and heard more crackling static. “Almost there, over.”

He bolted. Another car was pulling up to the garage as he tore out from under the towering prison. His eyes stung again and his chest tightened but he made himself focus. Other than his tight, itching and burning back breaking open a little more, he actually felt better than usual.

“Stop!” The voice behind him was out of breath and getting louder.  “Alyn, don’t run into traffic!”

So that was exactly what he did. When a car screeched to a stop in the lane in front of him he threw open the back door and jumped in. “Please help me, lady! I need to go home! Please take me home! Don’t let them get me!”

The lady just stared at him through her little rectangle mirror with a mouth hanging in a long O when her backdoor opened again. A thin man in a black uniform and hat with a red mustache leaned over panting and grabbed Alyn’s arm.

Alyn screamed. The lady screamed. The cop sighed. “Alright,” he exhaled dipping a little, then picking himself up. “Look, you’re not going to jail or anything, ok?” He turned to the lady. “Ma’am could you put your vehicle in park and turn off the engine.”

“Yes, yes, sir,” she tittered nervously.

“Don’t shoot me.” Alyn said pulling his arm back.

“Ma’am, could you please exit your vehicle?”

“Oh lord!” she yelled and jumped out.

“Don’t touch me,” Alyn said through grinding teeth. He started burning inside. “You’re not gonna eat me! GET OFF OF ME!” He kicked at the cop, losing all control of himself until the man was spun around against the car.

Damon pulled back from the cop and dove in, bringing Alyn out and into his arms. “Fuck, kid!” Damon held him tightly like he had before. He took Alyn to a sidewalk where he knelt grabbing Alyn’s arms. He shook Alyn as he barked each syllable. “ _NEVER_. GET. IN. A. STRANG-ER’S. CAR.”

Alyn’s jaw started trembling. Something welled up under his Adam’s apple. “I won’t tell on you. Please, I’m sorry. I’ll never pick a door again. I won’t ever take your things! I swear, m-sir!” The cop was beside them now talking into a box on his shoulder. Alyn was shaking so hard he must have the deeties, but he wasn’t a zombie? Was he?

Damon glanced and the cop and looked at Alyn with that strange frown he’d had the night before. “You’re lucky he’s here. You don’t _ever_ do that again.” He took of his jacket freezing Alyn with a glare and wrapped it around him. He pulled the zipper up to Alyn’s neck. The bottom covered his feet. “The doctor thinks you’re almost twelve, you know that? Didn’t anyone ever feed you?” There were tears in his soft brown eyes. Though he looked focused and spoke calmly, Alyn braced for him to start screaming and flinched unconsciously. Damon rubbed his shoulder and his Adam’s apple bobbed painfully like Alyn’s was.

“I wasn’t gonna hurt that little girl!" His eyes burned again. "I never hurt anybody, I swear!” Alyn looked up at the cop and inched closer to Damon. “I’m real sorry I got in people’s things. My stomach just hurt… I didn’t mean to…”

Damon pulled him into his chest and wrapped his huge hand around the back of Alyn's head. "It's ok."

Alyn tensed, then dropped his head and let the hot tears come.


	9. The Nobodies

When an athletic looking nurse with the most astounding jet black skin he’d ever seen finished sticking his arm and reattaching the thing that lightly pinched his finger, she flashed her oval white eyes with there bottomless centers up at him and smiled with perfect white teeth. Alyn glanced around nervously.

“I’m going to come back and check on you in an hour,” she said, straightening herself. “That’s about two TV shows. Here’s your remote, Mr. Alyn. If you need something, if you feel nervous or too cold, just hit this button here.” She looked a little sad before leaving him. Maybe she wanted him to say something nice. She walked past the thin mustachioed policeman. He had followed Alyn to the white room and kept hanging around like he wanted something.

Alyn pulled away against the clean, crinkling sheets when he came closer. He took the button to call the nurse in his hand and held it close to his chest. The cop sat at the foot of the bed. Alyn pulled his feet away.

“Alyn, my name is Sergeant Rayder. I have to ask you some questions.” He sighed and tapped around a slim rectangle phone like the one Darwin would yell into then sat it on the bed. Next he took out a leather book and flipped it open, pulling a pen out from the top. “What happened between you and Mr. Tanzer?”

“Who?”

“The big guy.”

Alyn shrugged.

“Let me get to the point; you want him in jail?”

Alyn furrowed his brow and snarled.

“Is that a ‘yes’?”

“Is that a joke?” He spat.

The man frowned and leaned back to consider Alyn. “Don’t you want the big bad man locked up?”

“Are you recording me?”

Rayder’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead. “Well… yes… for the record.”

“Why would _Damon_ go to jail?”

“Well, because of what he did to your-”

“No.” Alyn leaned towards the phone. “I don’t want to press charges on Damon.”

“That’s not really what I was asking.” He rubbed his forehead. “Let’s start with something simpler; what’s your last name?” Rayder waited with his pen ready a few moments before slowly looking up. “Not sure?”

Alyn’s face grew hot. He leaned back against the pillow and folded his arms. “Where is he?”

“Damon? Talking to another officer.”

“Why? I SAID NO CHARGES!” Alyn hit the button.

“That’s not your decision. Now tell me; what happened that night?” Alyn tried to rip the needle from his arm but Rayder grabbed his wrist and yelled to the door, “I need some help in here!”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” He punched Rayder’s nose before he could think about it. “LEAVE DAMON ALONE!”

Rayder jumped on Alyn and pinned him down. “THAT’S ENOUGH!” Another cop appeared beside them as his nurse came rushing through the door.  “Put a sedative in his IV, damn you!” Rayder growled.

“ _Get off_ of my patient!” She ordered pointing to the door.

“He’s WILD!”

“Go on! I’ve told you, and Dr. Qyburn has told you that he is _too traumatized_ for questioning. You,” she pointed at the round-faced cop spinning his cap in his hands who jumped back a bit. “You can stay and guard him. I want this one out of my room!”

As Rayder stood up an older man with sharp little eyes and a fake smile came in. “You’re still here?” He said looking up at the Sergeant quizzically. “Sheriff Frey had assigned Officer Tarly, had he not?” he asked with a little flutter of his grey eyelashes.

Sergeant Rayder pulled his cap back over his red hair and stomped out. Alyn was shaking and ready to strike at anything that came too close.

“Alyn,” the nurse said with her soft, low voice, “what if officer Tarly asks you some questions when you’re ready? He can ask the other police to send Damon up. How does that sound?”

Alyn nodded. His attempt at a smile made Tarly wince, but the nurse winked.

Once they were alone, Tarly flapped his hat against his thigh and smiled nervously. “Well…”

Alyn turned on the television and flipped through channels.

“Oh.” He looked around uncomfortably then slowly walked to the chair by the window. “I’ll just, uh, sit here then… a bit. Maybe after awhile you’ll, uh…”

Alyn turned the volume up.

 

After a cartoon came and went, Officer Tarly beamed at Alyn. “Well! That was a good one, wasn’t it?” Alyn kept his eyes locked on the screen in the corner. Tarly cleared his throat and gingerly pulled the notebook Rayder had left off the little white bed. “Seems like a nice guy, Damon. He just wants you to get better, really.”

Alyn’s eyes slid over to Tarly’s round, happy face. He didn’t have stupid eyes like most happy people did on television. They seemed to see too deeply, and Alyn looked back at the screen.

“Do you know your mother’s name?”

 

Five minutes later, when commercials came on he tried again. “Alyn, isn’t there someone you want to call?”

Alyn lay down and pulled the sheets over his head.

“We don’t know what to do with you, honestly,” the officer said softly. “We’re trying to figure out the best solution. I can’t imagine how you must feel. I don’t blame you for not trusting any of us. How could you? Adults have really let you down, haven’t they?”

Alyn curled up tighter under the crinkling white sheets. This room was so bright. He was so exposed. It gave him a kind of headache.

“Do you live in the same trailer park as Damon?” Alyn felt sad suddenly. “Do you have a place to sleep at night?”

He pushed his face into the clean sheets. He felt paper, like the kind his shirt was made of, under the thin cotton and wondered why it was there. He wanted to spend his next free minutes alone investigating this bed and how it worked. He’d never seen a segmented bed with levers, buttons, and bars that folded up and down on it’s sides.

“Hey,” a giant hand slapped his ass. He tore down the sheets and saw Damon smiling, despite pressing his lips together in an effort not to. “The officer asked you a question.”

“They want to put you in jail. I said I wouldn’t press charges.”

Damon grinned. His hand swallowed the top of Alyn’s head and gently pushed it around in a little circle. “Thanks, kid.”

“Oh.” Tarly sat up. “No, no. No one’s going to jail. I’m mostly here so you don’t Birdman of Alcatraz again.” They both stared blankly. “So you don’t pull a Houdini? No? So you don’t MacGyver… never mind, it’s fine.”

Damon stared at Alyn sharply and lowered his voice. “Don’t worry about being in trouble with any one but me. They don’t care what we do to _each other_. If you ever rob someone with money though, it’s a jail, a long trial, and prison. Now, he asked a question; where do you live, kid?”

Alyn stared at Damon, pursing his lips. “Three trailers down and one over from yours. The yellow one.” Damon patted his leg.

 

Damon came and stayed with him a lot after that. They brought him more fresh food than he could eat three times a day, took his blood, and asked lots of questions. His favorite nurse’s name was Alia and she came around a lot. A social worker came twice to ask questions and give him puzzles. After that a psychologist from the hospital came to see him every day until he left with more games and questions. He wouldn’t play unless Damon was there.

One morning the psychologist was showing him drawings of faces and trying to make him guess how the faces felt. It was stupid and insulting and he refused to play. The psychologist was trying to patiently bribe him with some chocolate when Damon came in followed by a cold, lean, man with clear grey eyes.


	10. Somebodies

Damon pulled a chair up to Alyn’s bedside. “Hey, kid.” He didn’t bother faking a smile but turned to look over his shoulder at the psychologist before leaning close to Alyn. “All the people who’ve been coming to see you, giving you tests, asking you questions and taking your blood, they’re trying to figure out what you need, and where to put you.” He motioned to the man behind him. “This is Mr. Bolton. He’s helped me out a lot. He’s offered to … sponsor my mother to be your foster parent. That means you can live with me. You’ll have to follow my rules or suffer the consequences. I’ll make both as clear as I can.”

“Excuse me,” the psychologist stood.

“Mr. Bolton can pay for special tutors, counselors, lawyers, and doctors; everything you need to survive into adulthood and make a life for yourself.”

Alyn shrugged. “Do I have to sign something?”

Damon smiled.

“Excuse me, I’d like to speak with him alone.”

“I don’t think-”

“ _Young man_ , I’d like to speak with my patient alone.”

“No,” Alyn answered.

Damon smacked his leg but he was grinning when he hopped up and left with the silent grey-eyed man.

The psychologist took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt with a sigh. “I just need you to know, if you’re uncomfortable with Damon or Ms. Tanzer, for any reason, Officer Tarly has been working with-”

“I’m not uncomfortable. I’ll take your face test now.”

The psychologist put his glasses back on. He scratched his head then smiled faintly. “Just know you have other options.”

“Damon,” Roose called as soon as the heavy door had shut, “do you understand what a favor means?” Damon nodded, looking decades older than he was. “Good. My child needs a lot ofhelp.” Roose glanced at the wipe off board on Alyn’s door designating him as ‘A.’ “Maybe not as much as yours.” It would have looked like Roose was laughing if his frozen eyes had the slightest touch of warmth.

 

The day Damon came to collect Alyn made a bad impression on his mother. As soon as the wide double doors parted, opening into Alyn’s new hall in the children’s psychiatric unit, Chantelle was left spinning in her haze while people rushed around her and screams burst from the room her son was sprinting towards.

One of Bolton’s lawyers pushed past Damon as he entered and looked back. “Oh, that must be him,” he told his cell. A nurse’s aid was holding his bloody nose in a corner.

Officer Tarly had his hands up. “What happened, Alyn? Let’s have a sit and you tell me what you need.”

Alyn was starting to sit when Damon rounded the corner. His hollow little face was red and furious, but tears that wouldn’t fall warped his honey green iris. He clutched at the wall as though he in danger of falling. “He’s a LIAR! You should arrest him!”

“ALYN!” He jumped back against the corner. His eyes grew as he looked up at Damon. Damon pulled the chair next to his bedside and patted the mangled sheets on the mattress. “Come sit down. That’s enough screaming.” Alyn’s nails scraped into the walls while he panted in the corner. “Do I have to come get you?” Damon asked gently. His mother poked her nose around the corner. Alyn slowly climbed towards and onto the bed, watching everyone for any movement.

“Look,” he grabbed some crumpled papers at the foot of the bed and handed it to Damon. Alyn stabbed at the top with a shaking finger.

Damon furrowed his brow. “Alan Morrison? I don’t understand.”

“Oh no,” Tarly lamented. “I’m sorry, Alyn. I told them to wait until Damon, Ms. Alia and I were here.” He turned to the nurse’s aid holding his nose and creeping towards the exit. “Why on earth did _you_ tell him?”

“I didn’t! I didn’t know the little animal could read!”

Dr. Qyburn came in and looked the aid over, seeming more than a little amused. “Didn’t I tell you to wait? I guess you were in a hurry to end your shift but I’m going to have to ask you to wait in my office now.” The aid hurried out.

“That’s not my name,” Alyn pleaded to Damon.

“We found your father, Alyn. He told us that’s your name.” Dr. Qyburn explained coldly.

Alyn shook his head. “It isn’t! He’s not my father!”

Qyburn motioned for the lawyer to come back in. “He is. Remember when I swabbed your mouth for a test? It was proven, beyond any doubt.” Damon found the name listed after father:

 

Robert Darwin Morrison

 

“NO!” Alyn stood on the bed.

Damon pulled him back down. “He lived with you?”

“He doesn’t live anywhere,” a fire vibrated through Alyn, “and I hate him more than anything.”

“Well? What does this guy want?” Damon asked, looking from Tarly’s helpless face to the lawyer’s.

“Doesn’t matter,” the lawyer smiled, “he’s in prison and will be for at least seven years.” He nodded at Alyn. “You’ll be an adult by then.”

“The mother?” Damon asked.

Tarly stood, holding his hat with both hands. “Well, Alyn,” his soft tone froze the boy, “we don’t know for certain but, when I talked to, uh, Darwin he told us your mother had passed away. I am so sorry.”

Without much thought Alyn decided, “I don’t give a shit.”

“I know. She never did anything for you, did she, really? I don’t think you owe her any grief. I’m just sorry that you don’t have a nice mother. I wish I had that kind of news for you, is all.”

Alyn wiped his shoulder against his face. “I don’t want that for my name. I don’t have a mother or father. Here,” he threw and open hand out to Damon who, after considering it a moment, gave him the paper and a pen, “ _this_ is my name.”

 

Alyn Alynson

 

Damon laughed and, strangely enough, Alyn smiled a little. “That’s cool, kid. You didn’t like the way he spelled it?”

“No, but … it’s still my name.”

Damon nodded. “What about a middle name?”

“Whatever.”

“I’ll pick if you don’t.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Alyn murmured through a tight throat. His eyes rolled up and away as he shrugged.

“Don’t swear in front of my mother.” Damon stole the pen and paper back. “Alyn Frankenstein Alynson. Can we make that work?” He gave the paper to the lawyer with the slick smile and predatory eyes who nodded.

“You have a mother?” Alyn whispered.

“Yeah,” he looked until he found her peaking around the corner. “Chantelle, come here and meet Alyn. She’s getting a lot of money to watch you. Don’t make her earn it all.”

Alyn didn’t understand what that meant, or how this woman could claim to be Damon’s mother. It looked like someone had painted a Hulk toy to have blond hair and a tan and now they were trying to tell him it was actually a Ken doll that came with this Barbie. “But she’s so pretty and little. Are you sure?”

“What, ‘cause I’m big and ugly? Thanks, kid. So? You leaving today or do you just want to lie the hospital the rest of your life?” Damon laid a heavy hand on his little head and smiled.

 

“Bye, Alyn. I got you a ‘good luck’ gift. Here you go.” Officer Tarly gave Alyn the biggest book he’d ever seen. He tried to sound out the letters to himself that ran down the spine in big blocks CH-IL-TON. That was no help. There was a car on the front. He recognized ‘Chevy’ above it.

“Wow.” He started flipping through the pages trying to figure out how to use the book. He rubbed his chin, undaunted by all the big words he didn’t recognize. The illustrations clicked with him in a way that made him feel energized and bright.

“Maybe you can take a look at my car one day,” Officer Tarly smiled with his Santa Clause cheeks. “It’s been whining at me; bit like my wife.” He laughed and winked as if to dismiss his little joke.

“When you’re accelerating or idling?”

“Alyn, come on.” Damon stood and patted his back.

Alyn frowned at Damon but got up anyhow. “I’ll do my best, Officer Tarly. Give me two weeks and I’ll study this book you got me. Here, fold a corner on the page with your make and model.”

“It’s alright, Alyn,” Damon patted his back and pulled at him patiently. “It’s time to go.”

“But,” Alyn gritted his teeth and stamped his foot. He didn’t want to say anything stupid about why it mattered. Another explosion started building inside of him.

“Start with my piece of shit beater before you go messing with his nice car, ok?”

“Yeah, my card’s in there. Just ring me up when you’re ready for me.”

Damon shook the Officers hand, so Alyn did as well. Heaving the book up against his chest, he insisted on carrying to the car himself.

 

Damon ripped out his ear buds, “ALYN!”

He hit his head on the exhaust. “Shit! WHAT?”

Damon pulled him out; yanking him by the old skateboard Alyn had taken. “I told you not to work around vehicles without me.”

“But I know more than you do,” Alyn pointed out simply.

“It’s fucking _dangerous_ , you little asshole.”

Alyn snorted. “I was just LOOKING, see?” He held out a flashlight. “I swear!”

Damon sighed. “I know you didn’t _mean_ to break that rule-”

“I DIDN’T!”

“Is that really a good way to talk to me?” Damon unbuckled his belt.

Alyn backed up, clenching his fist. “But… you said- I DIDN’T break that rule, Damon!”

“This is exactly why I came to find you. Your tutor said you keep yelling at her.”

“Well… but, she makes me angry!”

“And we’ve talked about that. What did I say would happen if you didn’t stop?”

“ _Fine.”_

Damon bent him over the trunk of the car. The pain wasn’t bad, not with the belt, but Alyn hated being touched afterwards more than anything. Damon didn’t seem to think he’d learned anything unless he was crying. He hated that too.

It was getting cold and dark. A moth flew around the bright caged light hanging from it's hook above them. Alyn watched it bump against the metal then fly away. He squirmed impatiently in Damon’s arms.

“Aren't you done yet? I mean, please?”

“Why did you swear at her?”

“She was laughing at me.”

“Why?”

“She asked me what the ‘D’ stands for in my name. There is no ‘D’. I’m not stupid.”

“She meant your middle name.”

“I _told her_ it’s Frankenstein and she laughed at me. _It’s your fault_.”

“Aw, fuck, kid. You remember that? It was just a joke. Shit, I’m sorry, Alyn. You still can’t yell at people and scare them when you get upset though, do you understand that?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, kid.” Damon rubbed his heavy hand into Alyn’s buzzed hair.

“Wait-”

“Wait?”

Alyn’s little chest started heaving. Damon could hardly feel his ribs lately. He leaned his cheek against Alyn’s hair for a moment. “Does it stand for ‘Darwin’?”

“What?” Damon pulled back and smirked. “No, stupid. It ends with and ‘N’ though. Brush your teeth and go to bed.” Damon lifted Alyn who just stood staring at him with round eyes. Damon got up off the dirt floor and squeezed Alyn's shoulders with his long arm. “Yeah, yeah, come on.” 

He got scars on his back five times after that, but mostly Damon gave him more freedom as he thought Alyn earned it. Eventually Alyn ended up moving in with an uncle who found him. He was quiet man who understood Alyn without needing explanations. By that time, Alyn was thirteen and already making enough money working on cars for Roose and people for Ramsay to pay for food and rent.

Damon didn’t really fight Alyn about moving in with his uncle but made the man meet him, and then Roose, and then that serpent-smirking lawyer. He would call and visit constantly and demand that Alyn answer a long line of questions every time he picked him up to take him to work. When Alyn went to school, Damon was on top of him even more. He spent so much time worrying about Alyn being safe and Ramsay liking him, his girlfriend thought he was cheating on her.

Then there came Loras. The way Damon looked at that bubbly idiot made Alyn think he had a new project, and needed one now that poor Lysie was gone. But now he’d threatened Ramsay, and not just with blackmail. Alyn wanted to tell Ramsay what he’d said but he’d lose his shit on sad, scared, Theon if he wasn’t the one to do it and Alyn couldn’t do anything behind Damon’s back. As soon as Loras said they should all leave Ramsay and Alyn to be the animals they were forever, Damon called his name to see if he’d heard.

 _“You have another syringe?”_ he’d joked.

Alyn almost didn’t like the pretty, rich, funny idiot who took Damon away. He was almost sad when Damon left. Now he was a little sad for both of them. There was a time bomb in Loras chest. He tore it open to let Damon into his wound but it was Ramsay who saw the secrets in his heart. It was only a matter of time now.

Alyn pulled the motorcycle Damon didn’t know he had into _his_ garage- no matter what Ramsay said. He sat on it and lit a cigarette, looking into the cold night and enjoying the quiet. A little moth danced around blue caged light. He heard a buzz as he ground the cigarette butt into the driveway.

 

All Damon had said to Loras the whole drive was “Are you ok?” three times. Then he parked in front of a hotel and stared ahead gripping the wheel with white knuckles.


	11. Fistfuls of You

Damon stared out the windshield. He slowly filled his lungs, squeezing the wheel when Loras’ door flew open. He snapped to find Loras hopping out. He stooped down, holding the car roof and door. “Carolers!” He fell back and shut the door. 

Damon jumped out and saw Loras waiting by the trunk, grinning.“Loras!”

Loras motioned for him to follow and took off calling, “Come on! Look! They’re in uniforms and everything!” He stopped at the edge of a small crowd and waved over his head. Damon huffed and slammed his door.

“I pulled over so we could talk,” Damon said to the top of Loras’ head.

“Look at them,” he whispered and took Damon’s hand in both of his.

Damon’s shoulders sank. There was about fifteen or so third graders singing “I’ll be home for Christmas” in their Catholic school uniforms. They were wearing white flowering wreaths like little crowns. Their voices came together like a clear, sharp bell. “I can’t..."

Loras gripped Damon’s hand harder. He looked around, biting his lip. “Oh! Roasted almonds! Come on! I used to always get these with my sister when we’d visit our grandmother in New York.“

“Loras,” Damon was pulled along while he tried to clear his mind of the mud it struggled in 

“Its so good on a cold night like this. Let me get this for you with,” he pulled some dollars from his pocket and held them up to Damon’s face, “MY fucking money, thank you.”

“Loras!” Damon stopped suddenly and snapped his arm back. Loras fell backwards into his arms and was spun around.  “We need to talk.”

Loras smiled up at him. He had such perfect teeth and dazzling eyes. His whole body seemed to glow when he smiled and, again, it almost seemed like a joke that Damon was the one he chose to illuminate. “I’m going to spend some fucking money on you for once,” he yelled. He studied Damon’s face then wrapped his arms, as well as he could, around Damon’s waist and put his chin on Damon’s chest. “Please?” He pulled back, “Wait, wait here! I’ll bring you some.” Loras sprinted off.

Wispy snowflakes started popping up against the black night here and there, all drifting slowly down. Damon watched Loras lean on the little metal cart and make the curvy little woman grey haired woman laugh and blush. A shy young caroler hung around the cart, peeking over it. Loras paid the woman and pretended the cone-shaped paper bags were too heavy to lift. They slammed against the lid of the cart as if they were made of lead. Damon rolled his eyes and tried to back bite a smile. The little woman behind the cart laughed and gave him a napkin. He unloaded some almonds onto the napkin and handed it to the kid with the shy smile. He glanced over his shoulder at Damon who hurried to cross his arms. Loras waved and ran back.

“Here, try one.” He extended a bag to Damon, who kept his arms crossed. “I heard this story once, I can’t remember where, about a man coming home from a long journey through a forest when a hungry tiger starts to chase him. He comes to a cliff and has to climb down a vine. On the ground below, a second tiger appears and begins to circle. Above him, the first tiger roars and claws at the earth. The man sees a strawberry vine growing on the side of the cliff. He eats one of the strawberries. It was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.” Loras ate a small handful and closed his eyes. He blinked at Damon.

Damon took the bag at last. “I don’t get it. Did the strawberry save him or what?”

“Probably not.” Loras laughed and shrugged. “I think, maybe, there’s pain behind us and pain ahead but when you really feel like the next moment isn’t promised to you, maybe you… appreciate things in a deeper way.”

Damon ate an almond and it was delicious.

 

“Aren’t we going to check in?” Loras looked back at the cute little motel in the idyllic small town they seemed to be leaving.

“I started the engine.”

Loras frowned and buckled his seatbelt. “Where are we going?”

“To a cabin I have. We won’t get supplies until tomorrow but we can stop at a drive thru if you’re still hungry.”

“Ok.”

“I pulled over to talk to you.” Damon peeled out of the motel parking lot.

Loras watched the pretty scene shrink and twist out of sight as they rounded a corner. “We can talk in the cabin. Does it have a fireplace? Can we stop and get wine? What are the rules about buying alcohol up here?”

“I don’t want you speaking unless you’re answering my question right now.” Loras sank back in his seat and looked out the window. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, I just don’t understand what I did.”

“That’s what I want to know. What the fuck happened with Ramsay?”

“Brain injury? Not hugged enough as a child? His mom did crack when she was pregnant with him?”

Damon slammed the center consol. When his fist sprang back up, the top popped up with it and spun into the backseat. “YOU THINK THIS IS A JOKE?” Loras winced and swooped some loose curls out of his face. “Look,” Damon twisted and pulled his phone from his back pocket, “he’s calling me again, like he has every five fucking minutes. Should I talk to him first, or you?”

“Him! I don’t know what to tell you!”

“There’s nothing you want to tell me before I answer?” Damon looked to his side view mirror and merged onto the interstate.

“Well… I just asked him to back off.”

“I told you not to talk to him,” Damon uttered in a near whisper. “I told you to forget about Theon. He told you himself, but you don’t listen, you don’t _fucking listen._ ”

“He was knocked out drooling-”

“THEON WASN’T!” Damon snapped, gripping the wheel and speeding ahead. Loras gripped his door’s handle. “And _Alyn_ heard everything. It’s just a matter of time now.”

“Until what?”

Damon connected his cell phone to the sound system’s head unit and latest of nine new messages. “If you don’t _fucking call me_ before sunrise I am coming after you and skinning your boy alive in front of you.”

“That.” Damon gave Loras his phone. “Play the first one.”

“Pick up. Pick up you fucking asshole. Damon, listen to me before you do…”

Loras paused the playback. “I get it,” he murmured.

Damon cupped his hand twisted in his seat and slapped Loras’ ear. “Did I tell you to pause it?”

“Ow!” Loras hit play and rubbed between his ear and jaw.

“ –anything crazy you just remember who the fuck I am and everything I’ve done for you. You _know me._ You don’t know this spoiled little shit and he’s a motherfucking liar! He’s just trying to manipulate you so he can take Theon from me.” Ramsay panted into the phone for almost a minute as though he panicking or rabid. “ _Damie_ , please, you know all the horrible fucked up shit I would do. You know what kind of monster I am. You also know the few lines I would never cross.” Loras felt like the car was spinning around him. He pressed his fingers over his lips and rubbed his mouth. “I would never hurt Lysie. Even if you don’t believe me, what the hell would my incentive be?”

“What…” Damon squinted and shook his head.

“Just talk to me. Come back and talk to me.” The message ended.

“I didn’t-”

“No.” Damon held up a quivering hand. “No talking until I’ve parked this vehicle in front of the cabin.”

 

Reek was sick with nerves. Ramsay had left the movie three times already with his cell phone. It only seemed to annoy Luton and Jeyne slightly but Alyn kept staring at him each time Ramsay left. The third time he moved into Ramsay’s seat, next to him. “I figured it out.”

“What?” Reek whispered. There was an explosion on the towering screen in front of them.

“The solution to your problem.” He grabbed Reek’s hand and started bending back his thumb. “Ask me to tell him for you.”

“Tell Ramsay? What?”

“Say it. Ask me to tell him for you now, without making a fucking scene or I’ll break your thumb right here.”

“But,” the pain became excruciating. He arched his back and bit his lip.

“Don’t ask questions, just say it.”

“FINE!” Luton looked over and someone hushed him but the pain only intensified. “ _Please tell him for me, Alyn!_ Fuck!”

Alyn stood. “You’re welcome.” He made his way through the seats and out of the theatre.


	12. Trust in Me

Alyn found a door propped open with a brick and followed the sweet smell of cigar smoke. “Hey, your boy asked me to tell you something but I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

Ramsay stopped his pacing and relit his cigar after looking Alyn over. “What?”

“He said, ‘Please tell him for me’ but I don’t get it.”

“So,” Ramsay started pacing again, “it’s something the two of you know that I don’t, so it must be something that happened last night when I was passed out. Any fucking ideas?”

“Oh.”

“ _What?_ Did he try to take Theon from me or did he try to turn Damon against me?”

“Well, Loras was like, ‘let’s take Theon and never come back’ but both Damon and Theon were like, ‘No!’ So… I don’t know, is that a big deal?”

“Yeah.” Ramsay nodded slowly. “Yes, that is a big fucking deal, Alyn.”

“Oh.” Alyn scratched his arm and pulled out a pack of menthols. “Well, Damon shot it down, obviously,” he muttered.

“You’re smoking?” Ramsay smirked and looked Alyn over. “I see. I figure it out and you don’t deny it. Now you didn’t betray Damon, Theon didn’t betray Loras and, most importantly, neither of you betrayed me. That's fine."

“I…” Alyn frowned and stuffed a cigarette back into the new pack, tapping it in by the filter and gritting his teeth. He shoved the lighter and pack in his pocket. When he looked up, Ramsay’s nose was nearly touching his. “Get away from me!”

“You know I love you and Damon.”

“Oh!” Alyn turned his head in disgust. “Fine! Whatever! Great!”

“You love him too.”

“Fuck you!” Alyn shoved his shoulders with both hands, but he just came back. “You don’t do this shit to me!”

“Like a _brother_ , Alyn.”

“Ok, yeah.” Alyn threw up his hands and tried to slide away. “Whatever.”

“You’re my brother, Alyn. You’re a loyal friend.”

 

Loras shut his car door and looked down the dark wooded path Damon was heading towards. “This way,” Damon shouted. Loras picked up his bags and hurried to catch up.

“Wow,” Loras gasped while Damon unlocked the door. “I get zero service out here.” The heavy door’s hinges whined when Damon swung it inside the dark cabin. Loras squeezed the bag he was holding then Damon grabbed the hood of his jacket and pulled him inside by it. He stopped to turn the heater on. They heard it bang and rumble and hum. It smelled like dirt and smoke.

“Stay. Right. Here.” Damon pushed Loras onto a small couch.  Loras looked around after Damon stomped outside. It was smaller than he expected, certainly not as extravagant as the Bolton’s house, but it was nice and clean. Something rushed through the walls. Damon came back in and removed his boots and gloves. “Take your dirty shoes off.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He kicked off his shoes. “Wait,” Loras struggled to unload his bags while Damon pulled him along into freezing, airless kitchenette. He shoved Loras into a corner and turned the sink handle. It shook and spat, then ran rust-colored water that went clear. Damon dug through a small cabinet over the refrigerator. He pulled out a bottle of Jack out and slammed it on the counter.

“Where the fuck are the cups?” Damon snarled.

“Let’s see…” Loras looked through some cabinets, pulled open the tiny rolling dishwasher. “Ah, look-”

“Shit.”

Loras turned around and found Damon looking at a snake under the sink.  “AH!” Loras grabbed a knife from the open dishwasher and deftly sliced its head off in one swift and precise motion. “OH GOD GROSS!” He threw the knife in the sink and shook his hands. “Are you ok?”

Damon stood. He stared incredulously. “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know. It could have bit you! It might be poisonous.” Suddenly Loras was up in the air, kicking his feet.

“It was poisonous, it’s a copperhead. They don’t bite unless they feel attacked. The heater’s been running; what if it was roused from hibernation? You can’t out-maneuver a fucking copperhead at close range! You’re a human! A _mortal_ human and you’re going to fucking kill yourself before you even get your god damned revenge!” He threw Loras who rolled on the floor and up to crouching. “You NEVER listen to me!”

“We only met a few weeks ago,” Loras said calmly.

“I _told you_ to _stay away_ from Ramsay.” Damon unbuckled his belt.

“I did!” Damon struck him across the ribs. He curled around the burning and sank to the floor, trying to force air into the vacuum his lungs had become. “I promised … I-I wasn’t supposed to say anything.” Damon struck him across the back. He groaned, fell onto his elbow and held up his head. ” _He_ came looking for you when I was cleaning the apartment.” Damon slowed and Loras slowly stood with his hands hanging tentatively in front of him. I thought it was you, I came out and he said, ‘Finally.’ Then he saw me and …”

“And what?” Damon’s anger shrank, he felt unsteady.

Loras lowered his head and wrapped his arms in front of his chest. He looked up at Damon then at the floor. “He went crazy. He went fucking crazy. He started accusing me of planting thoughts in your head and screaming that he would never hurt Lysie and if I said anything he’d kill me. He made me promise I wouldn’t say anything. I ‘m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know- I was…” Loras blinked and rubbed his eye, “I was scared.”

Damon dropped his belt.


	13. The Past is Done

“Let me borrow your phone.”

“No.”

“I just need to call him. My phone’s dead.”

“Because you’ve been calling all day.”

“Give me your phone, Alyn.”

“Fuck off, psycho.”

Ramsay covered his mouth and started pacing again.

Alyn decided to smoke after all. He lit his cigarette and coughed after the first drag.

Ramsay stopped and his hand slowly dropped away as he looked at Alyn. His tone softened as he put his heartbroken face back on. “When did Damon stop calling you ‘kid’?”

Alyn knew exactly when. He sighed and looked away. “Why?”

“You think if I tell him you’re smoking he’ll come back to kick your ass?”

Alyn snorted. “ _No_.”

“Do you think, maybe, that he’ll never come back?”

“Nah...” Alyn’s head dropped and he flicked the cigarette down into the street.

Ramsay lunged at Alyn and cupped his face in both hands. “They’re going to take my boy, aren’t they? You know what that spoiled foppish cunt tells my Reek about you, Skinner and I? What do you think he’s telling Damon now that he has him alone?” His lips curled up over his gritting teeth. His wide eyes shined as he snapped each syllable. “’That animal killed your sister, he’s coming for me, and one day he’s gonna kill _poor Theon_ or even you. But, if we rescue him, then _you_ can move on to your new career with your bio dad, and _I_ can give Theon everything he wants in Highgarden’. What will I do, Alyn?” A tear welled up on his lower lid.

“Oh, shit! Don’t do that. Hey, hey, it’s ok. Damon would never…”

His fingertips dug into Alyn’s jaw. “ _You’re all I have left._ ” Ramsay bit his lip and furrowed his brow, panting. “Hey, where does your uncle live again? Guffy Hollow? Is that the only other place you stay?”

“FUCK! Take it and get off of me!” Alyn whipped his phone out of his back pocket and pushed it into Ramsay’s chest, trying to shove him away.

“Thanks. Code? Wait, don’t tell me. 1967? Shit. 1967500? HA! You stupid asshole! Unnamed contacts…” Ramsay looked up from the phone with a sharp grin. “You put his secret safe house number under DT? _Really?_ Like I don’t know his fucking initials? Christ.” Ramsay hit CALL and waved the phone at Alyn. “You see why you need me, right?” He laughed and put the call on speaker phone, setting it on the ledge in front of them.

 

 

“Can you help me? I … I fucked up. I’m in way over my head.” Loras looked so small hugging himself and pressing his back into the wall. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Sit down.” Loras dropped, sliding along the wall. Damon finished pouring himself Jack Daniels then walked back over silently with the glass in one hand and the bottle swinging from the other. He sat on the couch frowning into his black drink while he swirled it absentmindedly. “What, exactly, are you saying happened?”

“Well, a few days ago… the night you found out… I was cleaning the apartment after you went out and I heard someone come in. I thought it was you-”

The cabin’s landline rang. The ID read A. ALYNSON.

“Hold on.” Damon dove to end table to snatch the portable. “Alyn?”

“ _ALYN!_ You fucking whore! You won’t answer when I call but if it’s Alyn the first ring doesn’t even finish before you pounce on the phone.”

Alyn groaned.

“Where is he?”

“In my basement.”

“ _What_?”

“I’m going to kill him if you don’t come back by noon tomorrow.”

Damon laughed. “No you won’t.”

“ _THE FUCK I WON’T_!” Alyn backed up, but Ramsay winked and smiled at him. “Do you have any idea what your little bitch has done to me? NO ONE fucks with me and what’s MINE. You don’t even have to bring him to me. Just come home and stay here until I’m done with him or I kill your other boy. Remember him?”

“No you won’t.”

“What? You think I’m powerless! Is that it? You think I have no fucking leverage because I’m some kind of fucking pussy? I’ll kill him right now and leave the body for you to clean up _because that’s your fucking job that you do for me_!”

“No you won’t,” Damon replied flatly. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you back yet I-”

“How certain are you?

“I am completely certain that you won’t hurt Alyn.”

“I’ll give you to the count of five to tell me you’re coming home or I put him down.”

“Ramsay,”

“One.” Ramsay slid a handgun out his jacket from behind his shoulder blade and held it up to the phone. “Two. Safety’s off.”

“Uh huh.”

“Three.”

Damon sighed.

“Four. Can you hear the click of the hammer?”

“ _Five_. Bang. Let me talk to Alyn.”

Ramsay grinned at Alyn and put his gun back. “You’re sure I won’t kill him?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you and you wouldn’t do that.”

“Good.”

Damon sighed. “Yeah, I get it, great. Now let me talk to Alyn.”

“No.” Ramsay grabbed the phone of the ledge and turned the speaker off.

“I want to talk to him.”

“Yeah? Ask nice and tell me who I am.”

Damon pinched the bridge of his nose and stood. “ _Stay._ ”

“No, don’t leave your little bitch to tell me. You should say it in front of him.”

“Fuck you.” Damon stomped upstairs to the bedroom then looked out from the landing to make sure had Loras stayed put before ducking in. “Are you, uh, trying to show me you aren’t a psychopath by acting like one?”

”I think it’s going well.”

Damon peeked out through the doorframe. Loras was still leaning against the wall with his arms around his knees. “ _Please_?”

“Please what?” Ramsay’s shoulders dropped slightly as exhaled. “Ok, Damie. Here,” he tossed Alyn his phone, “he wants to talk to you if you’re not too busy smoking.”

Alyn slammed Ramsay into the wall as he walked past. He giggled and went back inside the theatre. “Hey.”

“You ok?” Damon was sitting on the floor, holding his head.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. He tricked me.”

“I know. Don’t worry about that. Why the fuck are you smoking?”

“Uh…” Alyn looked to the exit Ramsay had propped open, but he was gone.

 

Luton, Jeyne and Theon were waiting outside theatre 6 when Ramsay came back. Theon eyes darted from Ramsay to, the floor, to Ramsay, to the people passing, to Ramsay, to the doors at the end of the crowed hall. Ramsay grabbed his wrist and pulled him close with a cold smile.

“You missed the whole movie,” Luton said with an easy laugh.

Ramsay wrapped an arm around Theon and set his chin on Theon’s shoulder. His crisp grey eyes considered Luton as he titled his head. “It was shitty movie.”

 

He pulled Theon into the busy men’s room and stopped him in front of a stall. “Don’t move.”

Theon shook his head. He stared at his feet and suddenly felt hot. Someone bumped against his back. He wiped his forehead on his sleeve and swallowed. His stomach churned acid. “Ramsay?” he called tentatively.  His mouth was filling with tart saliva.

Ramsay threw the door open and pushed past him to the sink. “What?” Theon felt a pressure in his throat and his stomach squeezed. Ramsay pulled him back by his arm turning Theon to the sink next to his. “Dry heave in the sink, stupid.”

When Theon was done he hung over the sink drawing slow, labored breaths. Ramsay ran cold water for him. “Splash your face.”

“Thanks.” Theon used a paper towel to dry off and rubbed his eye.

“Give me that. Don’t leave it on the counter like an asshole.” Theon’s voice wobbled when he apologized. Ramsay washed his hands and watched Theon rub at his eye again. He pulled Theon by the hair to bend his head. “Open your eye.” Theon stifled a moan and kept his hands at hanging at his sides. “Look up.” Ramsay used his thumb to quickly and carefully wipe his Reek’s eye.

Theon whined then blinked and it was over.

“Hey,” Ramsay held out his thumb. Theon’s eyelash lay curled on its flesh. “Close your eyes and make a wish.” When Theon opened his eyes the lash was still there. Ramsay grinned. “Oh, must have been a bad wish. Try again.”

A smile slowly crept up on Theon’s face. “Ok. I wish to stay with Ramsay forever and ever and give him such good head that he doesn’t take longer than two minutes to come.”

An older man hacked and spat a few sinks down from them. They looked down through the mirror at him waddling out, then at each other.

“Close your eyes and wish it to yourself like a prayer.” When Theon opened his eyes the lash was gone.

 

 

Damon came down stairs chugged his glass of Jack and poured another.

Loras looked up and frowned. “What happened? Are you ok?”

“Let’s try this again.” Damon dropped on the couch. “Start with what you’ve said to Theon.”


	14. I Will Work to Elevate You

“What you told me is that you heard Ramsay say, ‘Finally’ then he started screaming that he would never hurt Lysie. Why?”

Loras threw his hands up over his head. “I don’t know! He’s _insane_!”

Damon leaned forward. “Did you tell Theon that?”

“No! _He told me_. He admitted that Ramsay is a fucking psycho. That’s his word, by the way, _psycho_.”

Damon sat back and swirled his drink, unimpressed. “And what do you think that word means?”

Loras sputtered, “He’s delusional! He thinks he’s a god, he thinks everyone’s out to get him, he probably hears voices-”

“And sees little green men?” Damon asked flatly. “When Theon _warned you_ that Ramsay is a psycho, he didn’t mean that Ramsay is psychotic. He was trying to alert you to the fact that Ramsay is a fucking psycho _path_. He’s calculating, manipulative, fearless, lacks remorse, and is indifferent to the feelings of others. _That’s_ the kind of crazy he is. Yet, you’re telling me that you, Loras, _scared_ him so badly that he _panicked_ and spouted a virtual confession either because he was overwhelmed by _guilt_ or because he made a hapless attempt to manipulate you that a five year old could see through.”

“Those sound like his words,” Loras muttered, bitter but determined.

“Those are the _facts_.”

“What else did he tell you to say?”

“Yeah, he probably is manipulating me. Fuck, ha, I know he is.” Damon set his drink down and covered his eyes.

“Damon?” Loras leaned forward. “What’s wrong? What is it?”

Damon sighed into his hands.

Loras crawled forward. He looked at the door but then he saw Damon’s pain and couldn’t stop himself. “Damon? Please don’t be sad." He crept closer. "Did he hurt you? What did he say?”

“That’s what he does. This is what he does until you don’t know what the fuck you even know anymore.” He swallowed and whispered. “ _He’s got me. He’s fucking got me now…_ ” He looked up miserably when Loras touched his knee. His beautiful face looked up at Damon with such heartfelt sympathy shining in his round eyes Damon found himself laughing. “I’m just like Chantelle. She’d always say, ‘At least I’m not a heroin addict. I may smoke crystal you uppity little shit but at least I’m not smoking heroin… at least I’m not snorting it… at least I’m not mainlining.’ I heard that shit _for years_. ‘At least I’m not a fucking junky tying off behind the dumpster. Well, I ain’t perfect…” Damon grabbed the bottle and chugged what was left. He exhaled and threw it against the wall. Loras flinched and sat on his heals. “'… but I can tell you I’m no fucking junkie like them shitbags out there’.” He nodded and laughed. “Until she was. I was so sure, I told myself that I’d never really let him under my skin. What did I do?”

“It’s not too late. We’ll figure something out! I swear I’ll find a way to help you.”

Damon looked at Loras as if he just remembered he wasn’t alone. He smiled a little and touched Loras’ angel face. “Don’t you know anything? Don’t you know to how be afraid? You should hate me so why are you looking at me like that? At least he doesn’t look at me like that. He never pretended he wasn’t a liar.”

Loras squinted and shook his head. “I’m not a liar.”

“No? You’re not lying to me about what Ramsay said that night? You aren’t lying to me _about my little sister’s death_ just days after it happened?”

Loras sank. “Oh, no.” Tears came to his eyes. “But, I didn’t… that’s not what I mean to do! No, no! I didn’t think about things _that way_.”

Damon nodded and closed his eyes. “Tell me the truth.”

“Look, it’s all true but he didn’t just shout things out of nowhere. I told him _I wouldn’t_ say anything about him being relieved if he just left us alone. That’s when he got crazy. I just wanted him to leave us alone. I even told him I wanted to be friends with him. I wasn’t trying to threaten him, I just wanted some leverage. It wasn’t supposed to turn into anything, but then he put me in that garage and he called you he was trying to make it sound like I had this big evil plan and I only tried to tell the truth without fucking myself over!” Loras got up on his knees and grabbed Damon’s legs. “I’m sorry. It really wasn’t my intention to lie to you or use your pain to my advantage. I promise. Damon, I swear to you on Renly’s memory.”

Damon opened his eyes and looked Loras over without much expression. “I don’t think you had some genius evil scheme. You have a big heart and no motherfucking common sense, that’s your goddamn problem. You’re not a cunning predator; you’re just a sheltered idiot. You don’t even know when you’re in danger. You just stick your face right in it.” Damon grabbed Loras by the throat with one hand. “You did try to lie to me and you did try to hide things from me. You threatened Ramsay whether you want me to believe that was your intention or not. You broke three big rules and there are consequences to suffer immediately.”

Loras’ eyes bulged. He clawed at Damon’s wrist and tried to pull his neck back from the hand wrapped around it. “Hnng!”

“If you fight it will only make it worse. I only want to hear you say ‘yes, sir’ or ‘no, sir’ until I say otherwise. Do you understand me?” He let go and Loras collapsed onto the floor gasping and coughing.

Loras lifted his spinning head and dug his nails into the carpet trying to get a hold of it. His foot slid uselessly behind him and he sunk.

“You’re so fragile. You’re going to save Theon, huh? Shit. What a team you would make.”

 

“You wanna play a game?” Ramsay’s sharp stare bore into the lobby. He turned to his Reek and smiled.

 

“Jeyne?” She looked over her shoulder and grinned with relief. “You ready?”

“Yes!” She turned away from the goateed jock leaning over her but he pulled her back. “Hey! _Goodbye_ , Andy.”

“I’m just trying to talk you. You can’t even give me a smile?”

“I have to go, bye.”

“Oh,” he covered his mouth and turned his head with a click of his tongue. “I see, I see, I see. Is this your boyfriend you’re telling me about? For real though? Fuck, bitch, you look like a starved rat, faggot!” The jock turned to his friend who laughed with him.

Theon looked around then put his arm around Jeyne. “Come on, sweetheart.”

“Who you looking for, bro? Ain’t no one gonna help you.”

“Just leave us alone, alright? Have a nice night,” Jeyne said coldly putting an arm around Theon. They hurried away to the parking garage. “ _Is this ok?_ ” She whispered.

“Yeah, don’t worry.” For just a moment Theon let himself enjoy the smell of her brown hair under his chin and her thin arm around him. Her skin, her voice, even her touch was soft. He squeezed her just a little to reassure her and she leaned into his chest as though it was a safe place.

“Hey!” Someone whistled behind them. “Hey, girl, I’m not done talking to you!”

Jeyne looked up to him and he felt himself grow. He inhaled, taking in that one last instant, then pushed through the doors to the parking garage. “Don’t look back. Just come with me.” Theon took her hand and ran, pulling out Ramsay’s car keys.

The door slammed into the concrete wall. “Hey!”

“Hey, baby!”

“Yo, pussy bitch where you going with that honey, son?”

“Don’t look back.”

Jeyne nodded. There was a wet smack and scream.

“Oh, yo, what the fuck man you-” a high pitched screeching bubbled under Ramsay’s laugh. Thuds turned to thocks as the instrument doing the beating sucked out gore when it was pulled back.

Theon unlocked the car and opened the back door for Jeyne. She jumped in and he climbed into the driver’s seat. He locked the doors and started the car, putting on some music and turning it up. They both panted and said nothing for a while.

“Let’s go!” Alyn called.

“I’m sorry, Jeyne.”

“For what? What’s happening?”

“You, uh, was that your ex or something?”

“No. It was my ex’s boyfriend. He has a real hang up about us like if he fucks me it will make her straighter… I don’t know.”

Theon peered around his seat at her. “It’s ok. He won’t bother you again.”

Ramsay knocked on Theon’s window so he unlocked the doors. Ramsay tore his open. “Get the fuck out, dipshit.”

“Oh, I thought you said…”

“To start the car, stupid. Do me a favor, yeah? The day I ask you to drive remind me not to,” Ramsay laughed and pulled him out. “Go on.”

Theon stumbled out but took his minutes-long daydream date with him.

 

Damon picked Loras up off the floor and threw him over one shoulder. He stopped to grab his duffle bag before going upstairs.


	15. Rising Sun

Damon dumped Loras on the king sized bed and swung the duffle bag around to his chest. He laid out a thick strip and a coil of black leather as Loras rolled up and pushed himself off the bed.

“Ok, wait-”

“You’re either a slow learner or a poor listener.”

“- there is no reason to do something you’ll regret-“

“I will?”

“-when we can talk about things calmly and rationally. I’m not a fighter and you’re, like, twice as big as I am. I don’t wait to fight you and it’s unjust to take out your anger towards Ramsay out on me. I have a legitimate and pressing concern about an innocent helpless person that you won’t even let me express.”

Damon hesitated, running his fingers over the coiled leather. “You do know all the right things to say, don’t you?”

“ _Because it’s true_! Theon will end up dead if he stays with Ramsay and you know that. How do you THINK that obsessive abuse will end? That was the other lesson in your Myranda story but you choose to ignore it because you’re loyal to the monster who mind-fucked you.”

Damon looked up and smiled a little. Loras put up his hands and started recalculating. “Loras,”

“What?”

“I’m very disappointed in you.”

Loras shook his head and furrowed his brow. “What?”

“You’ve upset me.”

“Stop it. Why are you saying this? Just, stop, sit down and…” Loras started trembling, “I can fix it.”

“I never talked to anyone like I have with you. Guess that's how you found my weakness, huh? I didn't think you'd see the death of an innocent child as some kind of game.”

“No! Damon, please…”

“You want your revenge, you want your friend back, so you found the right buttons to push and I just let you because I thought someone like you could actually like someone like me.”

“Stop it! _I’m not Ramsay_!” Loras snapped, then tears started coming and he threw himself into Damon. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight!”

Damon smiled at the top of his curly head pushing into Damon’s chest. It would be more satisfying to be back in control if it didn’t feel like Ramsay winning another fucking game. “You want to fix it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to help me?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then I’m going to correct you. It’s going to hurt but when it’s over I’ll take care of you and we’ll move past this. Do you understand me?”

Loras didn’t look up. “Yes, sir.”

Damon pulled Loras’ shirt over his head.  He leaned it and spoke softly, tossing the shirt in a wicker hamper in the corner. “I could have torn it off, but royal blue really sets off your eyes.”

Loras looked up, unsure if Damon was laughing at him or not.

“You'er going to get on your knees, put your nose on the wall and wrap your hands behind your head. You get three.” Just after Loras let himself be moved into position Damon told him, “This is for trying to lie to me. Why am I hurting you?”

Loras glanced over his shoulder.

“Answer me or it will be two for lying. Why am I hurting you?”

“Because I tried to lie to you.” First he just noticed he was staring at the ceiling instead of the wall then the sound registered and the strip across his back burned.

“Why did I just hurt you?”

“Because I tried to lie,” he gasped.

“Nose on the wall. Try to keep your back straight or curl your spine in if you have to. This is for hiding that you were in danger from me. Why am I hurting you?”

“Because…” Loras panted and the world spun.

“One or two?”

“Because I tried to hide things from you.”

Damon said, “Good” as he struck again. This time it felt sharped and buzzed in the nerves up into his shoulders. He groaned and straightened out.

“Why did I hurt you?”

“Because I tried to hide things.”

“Very good. And this is for disobeying me when I told you to leave Ramsay alone. Why am I hurting you?”

“Because... because I-I disobeyed you.” At the last strike he cried out and twisted away from the impact, falling on his side.

“Why did I just hurt you?”

“Because… ah!”

“Don’t curl up. It will pull the cuts open.”

Damon’s voice was closer behind him. He saw red with his screwed shut eyes. “Because I disobeyed you,” he groaned through clenched teeth.

“Good job.”

“Don’t. Leave me alone.”

“Shh,” Damon pulled Loras slowly up to his chest. “It’s done. I'm going to lay you on your stomach and tend to your back now then we can talk again.” He gingerly lifted Loras and kissed his temple. "You'll like the bedsheets; its Egyptian cotton, 800 thread count. I have some wine downstairs. If you're good I'll get you a glass or two."

"Do-do you think I'm a horrible person?"

"No. It's done now." Damon pet his hair a moment then stood to get a kit from his bag. "I told you; I know you're not Ramsay. You're a big-hearted, brave, naive idiot."

"I want to go home," Loras rasped in a small voice.

"I know, but it's too late for that." 


	16. Whistlin' Past the Graveyard

Loras was struggling to lower himself from standing when Damon came in with a glass of wine for him. “It’s a Pinot Noir. I guessed you’d like something a little fruity but not too sweet.”

“Is that a joke?”

Damon raised an eyebrow. “What? Do you like sweeter or dryer?”

Loras took the glass and sipped from it, letting the wine glide over his tongue before swallowing. “It’s lovely.”

“Good.” Damon smiled a little and took the glass back, setting it on a nightstand. He picked a neatly rolled fur blanket out of a basket and brought it to Loras, who backed away. Damon took Loras’ shoulder and turned him to check that butterfly bandages and gauze were still clean and in place then he wrapped the thick blanket around Loras' shoulders and marched to the closet. He pulled out a plastic bin of neatly folded bed sheets and tore the comforter from the mattress. 

Loras tried to clench his jaw shut but he couldn’t hold his questions in. “Is this all yours? Is this like, your place? It’s not like the Bolton Estate.”

Damon didn’t look up from his work. “Ramsay likes, uh, things that, like, are nice but nice in a way that makes people think he’s, you know, rich and intimidating. Roose just wants everything to be very spare; sharp, clean lines, no clutter or … I don’t know… sentiment. I like real quality. Ramsay went with me to the winery when I got that and he just got whatever was on the top shelf, you know? ‘Give me your most expensive shit, my good man!’ He’s going to have a cognac with a  _ pizza _ , you know?” Damon shook his head and pulled the fitted sheet over the last corner.

Loras suppressed a smirk. “What would you pair cognac with?”

“Uh,” Damon stood and snapped the top sheet, “hmm. I think a Roquefort or a gouda.” Loras laughed then winced and tried to stand straighter. Damon stopped smoothing the top sheet and frowned. “What? Is that stupid?”

“What? No!” Loras chewed his lip then sighed and rolled his eyes. “You know you’re not stupid, right?” 

“Well, yeah, but… you know.” Damon picked up the comforter from the floor and held it a moment. “I’m a hit man from a fucking trailer park and you’re… not.” Damon waved the comforter over the bed and let it fall, gracefully landing centered on the bed. “Hey, are you hungry?”

Loras nodded. “My legs feel… wobbly.”

Damon fluffed six pillows and threw stacked them up against the headboard. “It’s something that happens after pain. Ramsay’s obsessed with pain and…” Damon stopped himself and put the plastic bin back in the closet. “We can eat on the bed.” Damon came towards Loras who tried backing up but stepped on the blanket wrapped around him. “Whoa.” Damon caught him and picked him up carefully.

“Don’t.” Loras shrunk back in Damon’s arms and turned away.

“You’ll like the food I bought us.” 

Loras gasped and stiffened when Damon kissed his forehead. He bit the inside of his lip and raised his chin to look Damon in the eyes. 

Damon smiled guilelessly. “I told you what would happen and I told you it's over now.” He laid Loras on the bed and bent over him. “Don’t be scared.”

“I’m not,” Loras whispered with a chattering jaw.

“I know. You’re so brave,” Damon kissed Loras on his soft lips then pulled back to look at him, “and I can be so gentle.”

 

“Here,” Ramsay said with a benevolent air, “take your meds now so you don’t forget.”

Theon looked at altoid tin Ramsay offered with depressed resignation. He took the pills inside then gave the tin back. Ramsay smiled and held his wrist. Theon rested his head on his free hand and looked out the window. He woke up with a cramp in his intestine and no memory of the how he got from Ramsay’s car to here. His head was heavy and the world was slow to follow when he rolled over. 

Theon groaned and rubbed his head. “Ramsay?”

He looked up from the white glow of his laptop and spun in his desk chair. “You’re up already?”

“I have to use the bathroom.”

“Ah.” Ramsay came over and released his ankle. 

“Why did you do that? What time is it?”

Ramsay grabbed his wrist. “Come on.”

 

Ramsay sat on the sink counter, watching Theon.

“Um.”

“What are you looking around for? Do you see a bug or something?”

“Well, uh!” Theon threw his hands up then grabbed his stomach. “Can you… I have to…” he stomped and his hands fluttered in frustration.

Ramsay smirked. “Hurry up, I’m busy.”

“But, what am I going to do in a  _ bathroom _ ?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think you could do a lot of things you have when I wasn’t looking.”

“But!” Theon grabbed his stomach. “Oh, my god! I have to … come on,  _ please _ !”

Ramsay laughed, “I know you piss and shit, dumb ass. Fine, ha ha, I’ll turn around.”

“BUT!” Theon shook his hands out then pressed his palms into his temples. “ _ Ramsay! _ ”

“ _ What?! _ ”

“There are…” Theon finally exploded, “NOISES!”

Ramsay rolled his head back cackling and grabbed his sides, slowly falling against the wall. 

Theon pursed his lips then panicked as another cramp caused him to bend over. “Come on, please! It’s going to be gross can’t you just give me, like, two minutes. Oh!” Theon hopped from one foot to another as he bounced around.

Ramsay sank to the floor, grimacing in silent laughter, unable to breathe. Once he started his loud barking laughter, Theon gave up and hoped he was too overwhelmed by the fucking hilarity to see or hear anything.

 

“I’m ok, you don’t have to pull me around.” Ramsay yanked his wrist and pushed him on the bed. He giggled to himself as he locked Theon’s ankle cuff. “Did you… did you fuck me… when I was…”

Ramsay kissed him and bit his lip. “Go back to sleep. I love you.” Theon whined and fell back against his pillow. “ _ Hey _ .” Ramsay slapped his ass.

“I love you too,” he said softly then he curled up and let sleep overtake him.

 

When he woke up he was alone and the cuff was off his ankle. He rubbed his head and stretched, noticing the bathroom door was shut through the light was off. “Damn it.” The hallway bathroom was shut off to him as well. He stomped back to Ramsay’s room removed and flung the briefs he hated into the laundry shoot. The fucking closet door was closed too so he went through Ramsay’s dresser and borrowed a pair of his boxers. As he walked to the open bedroom door they started slipping off of him. “ _ Shit _ .” How much did he weigh now?

He trampled down the stairs and ran for the half bath in the hallway leading tot the garage. Alyn was just shutting the garage door. “Where you going?”

Theon darted in the bathroom and slammed the door. 

 

When he came out Alyn was leaning against the wall frowning as usual. “You’re not going to go in my garage are you?”

“No!” Theon tried to hurry past him.

“Hey,” Alyn grabbed his arm and roughly pulled him back.

“Do  _ not _ touch me.”

“Wait, listen.” Alyn’s eyes wandered over Theon’s scars and he let go. “I just wanted to tell you there’s extra security around the house so don’t freak out. You got my number if you do.” 

“Security? Did he leave? To get… Damon?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Alyn shrugged. “I don’t know, man, you talk to him.” 

Theon watched Alyn turn and walk back to the garage door. “Thanks,” he said, but he wasn’t sure and shook his head. 

He marched to the kitchen with his heart pounding against his chest and slammed cabinet doors and the refrigerator getting himself some breakfast. He could see a guard stationed on the patio through the sliding glass door. “ _ Fucking asshole fuckface _ .”

“Theon?”

He spun and froze. “Jeyne?”


	17. Steppin' on a Crack

Theon inched behind the island in the kitchen. “I didn’t think anyone else was here…”

“Yeah, huh,” Jeyne laughed uncomfortably. “Sorry. Uh, Ramsay went to get food so…”

“Oh.”

“I just… if you were going to make, I don’t know, mounds of French toast or something,” she rubbed her shoulder and one side of her mouth pulled back in a goofy smile. “Oh man, look what I did to your poor fingers.” She rubbed her forehead and smiled apologetically.

Theon looked at his hands and found his nails were painted sparkling pink. “What?! How did that happen?”

“I guess we all got pretty drunk last night. I’m sorry, that’s, gah, all over the place.” She reached with her small hands for his without a thought to doing so until the pink tipped fingers flew away as though they’d been burned. She looked at him, not with surprise, but with compassion and a concerned sort of pity. Her eyes briefly ran across the scars on his forearm, which he pulled to his chest. He covered his ribs and stepped back.

“Do you want to watch TV or something? I can find you some nail polish remover.” She turned and disappeared into the living room.

 

He peaked his head in past the wall separating them. “I’m gonna find something else to wear.” He jogged past and waved. “I’ll be right back!”

 

He came into the downstairs living room after some hesitation. “Hey,” she smiled. “That’s a … different shirt. What does it say?”

“Um, Cannibal Corpse, I think.” He shrugged and pulled Ramsay’s board shorts up. “It’s, um, laundry day. I’m kind of borrowing Ramsay’s old clothes, heh.”

Jeyne had a backpack on the floor and a messenger bag in her lap. She was sitting sideways on the loveseat putting white lines under her eyebrows. She smoothed them out then put flesh-colored lipstick under her eyes. He could smell her from across the room. “Oh, hey, I found it. Here.” Jeyne threw a short plastic jar at him.

“What’s this?” He looked it over then walked to the couch adjacent to her loveseat. The lid unscrewed and he peered in. “OH! Whew, that smells!”

“It’s nail polish remover! Don’t smell it!”

“Well, other than not-smelling it, how does one operate a nail polish remover?”

She looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. “You just rub your fingernail on the sponge. It’s easy. Would you mind putting a show on?” She glanced around and smiled nervously. “This house is so, _so,_ gorgeous but…”

“It’s fucking creepy. I know. I’ll find a comedy or cartoon or something.” He bent over and slid a drawer out from under the coffee table. “What do you like?”

“Um, yeah, what’s on the comedy channel?”

“Aw, man, a stupid movie. I have Monty Python dvd somewhere around in Ramsay’s room if you’d rather.”

“Monty Python?” She tilted her head.

“Yeah…”

“How old are you?”

“I am one hundred and eighty two years old.”

Jeyne laughed. Her nose scrunched up and her eyes arched like little rainbows. “Shut up. Watch this awful romcom with me.”

“I am.”

She glanced over her compact mirror with a twinkle in her eye. “Why do you look like you’re twelve?”

“Oh, Ramsay has me on this fab beauty regimen.”

“Really?” She leaned over and raised her eyebrows. “Do tell!”

“First he has pretty girls paint my nails when I’m passed out.”

“Oh?” She nodded her head and pretended to write that down.

“He chains me in his room,” Theon lifted an explanatory index finger, “so I don’t ever get exposed to skin-damaging UV rays.”

“Ah! I see, yes.”

“And he also gives me, like, tons of facials.”

“Oh!”

“What?”

“Nothing!” Jeyne covered her mouth but her eyes were curved by her grin.

“You didn’t write that down. Write it down!" He poked his palm. "Ready?”

“Yeah!” She got her invisible pen and pad out.

“Step three: have Ramsay come all over your face.”

“ _Theon_!” She dropped her invisible instruments and covered her mouth with both hands. “Oh my god!”

“WHAT? Who does yours?”

“No, no. That’s not…” but she couldn’t finish from giggling.

“Yeah, last night I was like, ‘Baby. Baby! I’m getting crow’s feet.”

“NO!”

“Yeah I’m like _right here_. Ow, yeah. It’s working.”

“ _Stop_!” She covered her face and rolled back against the loveseat arm laughing.

“I think that burn means its working.”

“ _Ohhhh_!”

“So you… have a lot of bags.”

“Ramsay asked me if I wanted to stay over while I try to … I have to find somewhere for winter break. I can’t stay at my dorm because they close the dorms and my car isn’t working but…” he cheeks were getting pink.

“Well, that’s the first step.”

She squinted and smirked.“First step in what?”

“The patented beauty program.” He watched her eyes zip above his head then his hair was pulled back until he saw Ramsay looking over him, upside down.

“Hey, baby.” He kissed Theon, breaking into his mouth to bite his tongue and pull it between his teeth. He stood and looked down with a cold smile. “Come help me bring the food in.”

 

Theon hurried down the driveway after Ramsay. Ramsay shoved a hot paper bag into his stomach once he got to the car. “Having fun?”

“Why did you bring her here? Is she really staying?”

Ramsay grabbed his shoulders and turned him, pushing his back into the car. “Why? Making plans?”

“ _I didn’t invite her_! I didn’t know she was here and I had to go downstairs because- the doors!”

“Mm. I forgot you have to fuck everything that comes within ten feet of you when my back is turned.”

“I _’m not going to fuck her_!”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll help you out with that.” Ramsay looked Theon over and smirked. 


	18. You Will Believe in Me

“She’s a lesbian. Did you know that?”

“Pfft, so? All women are and how many did you talk your dick into?”

“I’m not…”

“ _What_?” Ramsay shoved into him. The car was cold and hard on his back. The bag of food was warm on his stomach.

“... Theon.”

“Oh?” Ramsay’s smile was warm as home when you tear off your snow covered jacket and smell dinner cooking.

Reek twisted a loose thread from Ramsay's shirt around his finger.“You’re not  _really_  leaving... are you?”

“Shut up.” Ramsay took another bag and grabbed Reek’s wrist. He used a muddy steel-toed boot to kick the door shut on his $80,000 car. He pulled his Reek back inside and looked over his shoulder with an acidic laugh. “It’s a good thing you’re such a shitty liar.”

“What does that mean? What’s going on?”

 

As they ate at the dining room table, Ramsay was very charming and Jeyne was gracious. Reek just studied them, trying to find the right angle. He pushed his fries around the wrapper they’d been dumped on while he tried to see the bigger picture. He lost focus remembering when Loras first noticed the scar on his ribs.

 

“HEY!” Theon jumped back. “What the fuck, man?”

“I… I thought you were done with your shower. I’m sorry.” Loras backed out closing the door as he did. He tried to look away, pursing his lips, but then slammed one foot back onto the bathroom tile and his free hand shot up to declare his confusion. “Well aren’t you though? What’s your problem?” He was ready to defend himself when he noticed Theon wasn’t covering anything below his waist. His offended hand slowly dropped and he softened his tone. “Are you alright? What happened?”

“Nothing. It’s fine.”

“Is it a rash?” Loras smiled a little and tilted his head to hoping to see Theon blush and smile. “Birthmark?”

“It’s where my conjoined twin was cut from me.” Theon bravely put his secret behind a tragic smile and Loras lost his.

“I just… look, I’d really love you to tell me.” Loras leaned against the doorway with heartbroken eyes. “I’m a good listener.”

Theon nodded. “I know.” His smile failed him for a moment so he looked away. “I’m not a good teller.”

Loras stared at the tile too and they were both quiet a moment. The fog slowly rolled off the mirror and Loras saw Theon sniffle through it when he looked up. “Hey! You’re a good dancer. Let’s go out tonight and you a tell me with your dance moves.”

“Yeah,” Theon smirked but didn’t return his gaze. “Interpretive dance. I’ll start from when I was born in a hurricane.”

Loras grinned at his absurd joke, which wasn’t a joke at all, and let him have some privacy.

 

Reek jumped when the table shook. “What? What happened?”

“Look me in the eyes,” Ramsay demanded in his best impression of patience.

“Oh, no, no. I’m fine.” Jeyne looked at him with the same concerned pity as before. “What?” He looked to Ramsay, who was grinding his teeth yet smirking a little.

Ramsay sighed and looked at his phone. “Hmm. Two minutes and forty seconds. You didn’t take your medicine today. Why don’t you go do that so you don’t forget?”

“Oh, it wasn’t a…” he looked at Jeyne then back at Ramsay who fluttered his eyelashes and sweetly raised his eyebrows.

Ramsay leaned towards Jeyne. “He often has a hard time talking afterwards and he can have these emotional and paranoid outbursts but it’s never violent or anything and only lasts half an hour at most. Locke will be here 24/7 and Alyn’s just a phone call away.”

Theon leapt to his feet knocking his chair over. “IS SHE FUCKING _BABY-SITTING_ ME?”

Ramsay sighed and calmly put his hands up. “We can talk once you sit down and lower your voice.”

“It wasn’t a seizure and I’m not depressed and I don’t need her here and I want a fucking jacket. It’s not fair!” He stared ahead and heard the flood of words bursting from his broken dam of a mouth. “And you shut the doors and the _closet_ and I don’t have a jacket and you didn’t _say_ she was here!”

“Theon," Jeyne started to explain, "I’m a LPN and I’m getting my Bachelor’s in Nursing Science in the spring. I actually work with-“

“I’m not  sick and I am NOT crazy! _He’s_ crazy! LOOK AT HIM!”

Theon frantically pointed a shaking finger at Ramsay’s serenely tolerant face. His hands were neatly folded on the table. “You still haven’t eaten anything. Where’s your monitor?”

“I don’t know… you always get it.” Theon’s panic started sinking under a growing ache.

Ramsay leaned forward. “You know where it is. Think. What do you do if your blood sugar’s too low?”

“I come get you,” Theon’s eyes blurred as he swallowed, “and you take care of me, but you won’t be here.” Theon smacked his food off the table and fled upstairs.

Ramsay stood and reassured Jeyne, “I’ll talk to him.” He pressed his lips together on one side and sighed. With a resigned bit of sadness he confided, “ _He has pretty intense separation anxiety._ ”

 

“Wake up.”

Loras pulled down the covers and sat up. “Where are you?”

Renly stepped out of a dark corner. His features were obscured by shadows. “This is everything I didn’t want for you; hate, revenge, _suffering_. He stepped into the soft crisp light. “There is no peace or redemption on the path you’ve chosen. _You have to find another way.”_


	19. I'll Never Make it Alone

 

Loras woke up in a bright room he didn’t remember with a mountain rumbling beside him. He recognized Damon’s back, twisted and snoring like a bear. Loras pushed and pulled his shoulder

Damon’s thick brown eyelashes beat against each other, squeezed shut and parted. He stretched his arms far out into the air and groaned. When he exhaled his muscles eased further into melting. This was his favorite place to wake up. Everything was quiet and in order. He let his eyes rest, savoring the peace, when he heard Loras trying to catch his breath. He rolled over and saw bright blue eyes waiting for him.

“Hey,” he said like a breeze.

“I can’t…”

Damon’s eyebrows rose near the bridge of his nose. “Listen, I have a detailed plan I’m going to go over with you step-by-step if you want to be a part of this. Once I share that information, there is no going back. It… it’s almost too late to stop now but-” Loras pressed his forehead to Damon’s chest. His shoulders started shaking. “What?” Damon wrapped an arm around the explosive beautiful thing pressing into him of all people. He smoothed Loras’ springy locks away from his buried face then rubbed circles into his shoulders. “What is it, huh? You can tell me.”

“No,” Loras pulled back a little. “What I mean is… I couldn’t save Renly, I can’t save my friend, or you, or _anyone_.”

“Nobody can ‘save’ people. You can try to help, if they let you, and that’s about it.”

“It is too late to go home. I really _need_ this _._ ” Loras looked up. “I think, when we’re done… I have to leave you, don’t I?”

Damon swallowed. “I’m working on that.”

A smile brightened Loras’ face then faded as quickly as it came. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fuck up your life.”

Damon suddenly laughed so hard he grabbed his stomach. “ _You_?” He shook his head and rolled out of bed. “Let’s talk after we get some food and coffee in us. I’ll make breakfast. We can eat on the balcony if you want to.”

 

Damon came to a halt and scanned the empty bedroom. “Loras?” The forks started jingling against the plates he was carrying. He set them on the dresser and shoved his way into the bathroom. “Loras?” He grabbed his phone off of his nightstand. Still no service. The landline hadn’t rung. He pounded down the stairs. “LORAS!”

“Damon!”

He spun around, grabbing the railing to keep from losing his footing, then soared back upstairs. Loras was waving from the sliding glass door.

“GUESS WHAT? There was a big beautiful raven and he landed on the railing and puffed his chest like-” before Loras could go on with his impression Damon turned Loras around and struck him. The clap resonated in Loras’ ears as he tried to wretch his arm free. “Ow!” Tears burned in his eyes. “That wasn’t cute. It really hurt! Why did you do that?”

“ _Where were you_?”

“Ah! You’re hurting my arm. I was _right here_! You said we could eat on the balcony!”

“Oh shit.” Damon relaxed his tight grip and dropped his head. “ _Fucking shitballs chode wart puss on a fucking cracker_.”

“Wha-” Loras snorted and rubbed his eye. “What was that?”

“Um,” Damon looked down on him with all the gentleness he’d lost a moment ago. “I’m sorry. I did; I said we could eat out here.” He pulled Loras close. “I’m sorry.” Damon wrapped both arms around him and inhaled bright effervescent air when Loras rubbed his curly hair into Damon’s ribs.

“OW!”

“Sorry. Did I hurt your back?”

“YES!” Loras stepped back but Damon kept a hand behind his neck. “Did you make breakfast or what?”

“Ok, Princess, I’ll get your food. Go sit down.”

“Well, I can’t now!”

Damon laughed and slipped back inside.

 

“This coffee is delicious.” Loras said, still a little melancholy. “It doesn’t feel like winter anymore. Are we in the South?”

Damon nodded. “Less than an hour to get… the urn.”

“It’s kind of like this in Highgarden, but dryer and less naturey. I didn’t tell you about the raven! I was eating the blackberries you gave me- so good- and he swoops down and lands right there. See? You’re not looking!”

Damon looked up from the strawberry crepe he’d just spent an hour making. He tapped his fork on his plate and looked at Loras’. “I’m listening but hurry up and eat. It will be a long day.”

“Yeah! Absolutely! So he’s right there and I’m, like, thinking _ok, don’t move and maybe he won’t fly away_ but then he puffed out his chest like this and he was like, ‘Rah rah rah!’ and I- _what_? What are you smirking at?”

“He barked?”

“No!”

“He didn’t caw?”

“NO HE DIDN’T! Just listen! So I said, ‘What? You want a blackberry?’ and he… _cawed._ ”

“Are you not eating my food so you can tell me about your conversation with a bird?”

“Fine.” Loras sat then jumped back up with a frown. He grabbed his breakfast and stood leaning his hip against the railing. “I’ll just talk with my mouth full. So I said, oh my god! This is good!”

“Wait… to the bird?”

“NO! To you!”

“When?”

“NOW! This is amazing, Damon! Oh man, it is so crispy and soft and the cream is perfect. Have you been to France? Did you know my family-”

“LORAS!”

“What?”

Damon slammed and exasperated hand against the little metal patio table. “ _Finish your story_.”

“Oh, right. Now where was I?” Damon rubbed his face and Loras remembered. “Oh yeah! I said, ‘Well, there’s only two left. Here’s one for you and one for me.’ Then I put one on the railing by me and one by him and I showed him the empty box so he knew I wasn’t tricking him or being greedy or anything.”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, then he took the one I gave him and was like, chomp chomp! Gone! So he comes waddling over to me and I’m thinking, _Oh my god! I’m like Dr. Doolittle or some shit! I’m communing with nature!_ ”

“Jesus.” Damon snorted.

“But THEN the little fucker KICKED my berry OFF THE RAILING down to the dirty… dirt! He looks at me like, ‘What you gonna do ‘bout it?’ goes ‘RAH!”and flies away. I was like, ‘WHHAAAAT?’ Can you believe it?”

Damon tried to cover his smile by wiping his mouth with his napkin.“Um, not really?”

“I know, right! Wait, what do you mean? Why?”

“Birds can’t kick.”

“Uh, yes they can, Damon! I just saw it!” Loras stabbed into his crepe and ate the rest of it.

“Ok, but…”

“But WHAT?”

“They have forward bending knees, so…”

“No they don’t.”

“Well, ‘ankles’ technically. The point is, their legs don’t work like human legs.”

Loras bent to drop his plate and fork on the table and snapped up crossing his arms. His eyes grew larger and he tried to stifle grimace.

Damon bit his lip. “You should try not to bend your back. Did you injure yourself pouting?”

Loras’ fists flew out to his sides. “ _Your legs_ don’t work like human legs!”

Damon’s crashed onto the table as he fell forward laughing. “You got me! You got me! I’m a fucking ostridge!”

Loras smiled though he pressed his lips together. “Well, this is a fine time to tell a fellow; after you get me alone in your cabin and do unspeakable things to me.” After Damon stopped laughing Loras inched closer. “Do you have any smokes?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Loras rubbed the ball of his foot against the grain of the deck’s wooden floor. “Thanks for breakfast. It was really good.”

“Hmm.” Damon stood and started cleaning up, still smiling to himself.

“I can do that for you!”

“It’s ok. I know you’re sore and tired.”

“Look!” He piled the dishes on one arm and grabbed the mugs with both hands. “Huh?” He grinned up at Damon. “I’m not a princess. I can clean and stuff.”

“But you’re so pretty and delicate,” Damon said in a low, teasing voice.

“Ugh.” Loras frowned and tried to get around Damon.

He pushed Loras up to the railing, step by step. “Don’t drop my dishes.” Loras swallowed. His heart started racing when Damon leaned down over him. “You’re not delicate?”

“ _No._ ”

Damon grabbed his ass. “No?” Loras gritted his teeth but couldn’t help smiling. “I won’t tell anyone that you are.” Damon bent down and kissed his neck. The forks started clanging on the plates again.

 

“Reek?” Ramsay stepped in his room and looked around. It only took an instant for a cold heat to build when the room appeared to be empty. “You aren’t hiding are you?”

“No,” a small voice said dejectedly.

Ramsay exhaled and walked around the bed with his hands in his pockets. “Did you get sick?”

His Reek was heaving on the floor, curled around their trash bucket. He was pale and sweating. His eyes appeared unfocused. “I’m sorry. The bathroom door was closed.”

“Ew, just bile, huh? Well, that’s what you get for not eating.”

“I don’t care.”

“You’re so dramatic, puppy. That’s why you need a nurse to stay with you. You would never subject sweet Jeyne to finding a dead body, would you?”

“What?” Reek tried to spring up and swooned. Ramsay knelt beside him. “I would never do that!”

“You wouldn’t.” Ramsay kissed his cool, wet forehead. “Look at what a wreck you are.”

There was a question pressing against his front teeth, trying to pry it’s way out his mouth, but it was a Theon-question and he covered it with a better one. “Why do you have to leave me?” He started crying from exhaustion as much as from the image of Loras’ bright blue eyes smiling at him as though he were already haunting Theon. He could _feel_ Ramsay’s happiness and leaned into it to warm himself. He didn’t have to act when he looked up with swollen eyes and asked in a broken voice, “Will you come back soon? _Please_?”

“Of course I will, you fucking idiot. You can’t get away from me. You’re so easy to lift and carry now. Do you like being even more helpless?” Ramsay snapped at the ear he’d marred and laughed when Reek rolled up like a hedgehog. He set Reek on the bed and climbed over him. “Do you know why father indulged me by buying and keeping my girls?”

“N-no.”

“Anything you have an affection for is a weakness, especially when you feel protective over it. What do you think I could come up with for Jeyne if Theon took this opportunity to leave me? He thought of himself as being very brave, if you didn’t know, and he could be quite self-sacrificing when he wanted to protect his little friends. It’s much harder to sacrifice an innocent person though. That’s not really being a good martyr is it?”

Reek shook his head. “Oh! Oh no!” Ramsay swung onto his back so Reek could fall off the bed and start retching again.

Ramsay bit at a hangnail bothering him. He watched the ceiling fan spin. “We’ll have to stick you with a needle to test your blood sugar now.” He grinned when Reek whined. “Then you have to eat.”

Reek’s hands grabbed the mattress but he couldn’t yet raise his head. “Can’t I go with you?”

“Of course not! Look at yourself! I can barely keep you alive in the safety and comfort of my well-guarded, luxurious, secluded estate, but, yeah, I’ll just dump you in a motel room and cross my fingers you don’t pull a vending machine on yourself.”

Reek’s eyes peeked just over the mattress. The red around his irises made them a stunning bright green. “Will you call me at least?”

“Ugh!” Ramsay rolled his eyes and put his hands behind his head. “Of course I will, stupid. He was practically humming with joy when he jumped off the bed.

Reek crawled back meekly and raised a hand. “I’m sorry, I was bad… downstairs.”

“You just wanted to keep me here longer, didn’t you?” Ramsay grabbed his thin wrists and roughly pulled him up to standing then picked him up.  “I hope it’s worth it. You’re swimming in my clothes.” He laughed. “I could just carry you all day, you boney little thing.” His Reek pressed into him and his breathing started to slow back to normal.

 

Jeyne flipped through the channels but couldn’t find anything interesting. Alyn stomped up to the living room carpet, wiping his hands with a dirty rag. “You’re good to go.”

“Oh! Thanks, Alyn! I don’t know how to repay you.”

Alyn raised an eyebrow. “Ramsay’s paying me. Well?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you… going?”

“Uh…” she looked towards the empty stairs. “Well, not yet. I’m staying here for a few days just while-”

“Great,” he remarked bitterly and stomped out.

“Ok…” She tried another channel.

“Tweet us with your thoughts on the controversy. Was the skirt too short for a primetime event or are people making a big deal over nothing? We’ll read your tweets tonight at eleven.” Jeyne rolled her eyes and raised the remote.

“Well, another controversy, this one far more serious takes us to the Weeping Waters Movieplex where last night authorities say two young men were found brutally beaten to death. For more we turn to Chip Meadows at the scene.”

“Good morning, Wendy. I’m here at the parking garage where two young men died last night. Police here are saying it’s yet another incident on this area’s growing gang violence epidemic.”

“They were hootin’ and hollering and just being real nasty to all the people here.”

“That’s Sharon Forrester who says she saw the young men the night of their murder. Other at the scene that night support her claim that the men, who’s identities have not yet been released, were harassing women and, according to one witness who did not which to appear on camera, selling drugs to minors. Officer Karstark gave us his professional assessment.”

“This was a preplanned attack. There is no sign of a struggle or defensive wounds. We highly suspect this is part of an ongoing turf war.”

Jeyne changed the channel when Ramsay came carrying Theon downstairs.


	20. Kill for You

“68,” Ramsay considered the digits on the blood sugar monitor and popped out the needle. “That’s quite a drop.”

Reek sighed, crumbled the chocolate wrapper and tossed it. It bounced off the trashcan rim and landed on the kitchen tile.

Ramsay snorted and smacked his thin arm. “Watch this.” He flicked the tiny needle into the trash and shook Reek by his shoulders.  “Huh? What do you think about that, bitch?”

Reek smiled with his lips pressed together. “Amazing. You’d be the needle-dunking world champion. You’re better than everyone at everything.”

“Yeah I am. Open your mouth.” Reek stole a glance towards the living room and let Ramsay put the chocolate in his mouth. “You like that?” Ramsay slowly pumped the chocolate bar in and out of Reek’s mouth against his tongue. Reek spit and lurched forward laughing. “Aw! You got your chocolate slobber all over the counter.”

“Sowwy” he laughed with his mouth full. “Uor ‘o ‘oof, huh huh.”

“Fuck yeah I am. No one’s as charming as me.” Ramsay looked towards the living room and lowered his voice. “I bet I could talk my dick into that ‘lesbian’. What do you think?”

“Why? I’ll do anything for you!”

Ramsay’s sharp eyes slid back over to Reek. A smile warmed his face. “Don’t panic, you little idiot. I’m just saying I could if I wanted to.” Ramsay studied Reek’s face closely as he ate one his chocolates. “You really like that girl, pet?”

“No.” Reek shot him an incredulous glare. “I mean, she’s really nice and cool but…”

“But what?”

“I’m not…” for some reason his heart felt heavy as he stared at his pink sparkly nails, “… I think I only like you now,” he mumbled, unsure why it felt like losing something. When he looked across the kitchen counter, the way Ramsay looked back at him made him feel better.

           

Ramsay sat on the couch and pulled Reek down next to him by his wrist. Jeyne greeted him with an uncharacteristically wide smile. Her hands wrapped around each other tightly. “Everything alright?” Ramsay asked sweetly.

“Me? Yeah, of course. So,” she cleared her throat, “how long do you think you’ll be gone?”

"Two, maybe three days.” He looked over at Reek who clearly heard the same anxiety squeezing her chest that he did.

“So, I never found out how you met Ramsay.”

“Oh, well,” Jeyne smiled and looked towards the ceiling, remembering, “every time the head of my unit got flowers, had a new necklace, or bracelet, or iPad or _car_ we’d all want to hang around the station to see and ask who it was from just so she could blush and say, ‘My son.’ I was walking out with her after we’d pulled a double one morning and I recognized him standing in front of this new Toyota. Her car had been having one problem after another so he gave her the keys to this new one and invited me to come over for that party. Remember? You were out most of that night then we went to the mall the next day and… well, anyway, I just love his mom. She’s so smart and she’s been super patient with me while I’m getting used to the patients and they’re quirks.”

Ramsay beamed. “What does she say about me?” 

Jeyne giggled and relaxed a little. “Well, I knew you from the photos at her desk and she always lights up and gets a little shy when she talks about you. She said you’re doing really well in school and that you have a really sweet boyfriend who makes you happy. I told her he’s adorable.”

“D’aw.” Ramsay pinched Reek’s nose.

“Sh-she knows about me?”

“Of course she does. It’s not like with your family.”

She turned to poor Theon. “My family isn’t like her either. That’s why I’m kind of couch surfing in between semesters.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll always have a place to crash here.” Ramsay made note of the way her face fell before she could force a polite smile.

“Thank you. You’ve been so kind and generous.”

“Well, make yourself at home in this wing of the estate. I’ll introduce you to Locke before I leave. I’m going to go pack.” He stood and Reek jumped up to block him.

“ _Now_? You’re not leaving now, are you? It’s snowing outside!”

“Oh, that will make for a long and difficult hike. I guess I’ll just have to, like, take a car or something.” The corner of his mouth pulled back when his Reek followed him upstairs.

 

“Ramsay?”

“What?”

“Are you looking for your sunglasses? You left them in your sock drawer.”

“Thanks.” He tossed the sunglasses on top of his folded work clothes and looked around. "Where’s my deodorant?”

“You usually leave it on the bathroom sink. I’d get it but…”

Ramsay walked into the bathroom. “Got it.”

“Um, do you want me to get a Ziploc bag for your toothbrush?”

“No. Why? Is that what poor people do?"

Reek bit his lip and pulled at a thread on the bottom of the forest green khaki shorts that kept threatening to slide of his waist every time he stood. “Well, don’t you need me to…”

“To what?”

“Do you have gloves?”

“Of course I have gloves.” Ramsay came out of the bathroom to find his Reek hugging his knees on their bed. Through his thin band shirt he could see Reek’s spine poking out, reminding him of a tiny dinosaur. He walked over and slapped Reek’s hand. “Don’t ruin my shorts with your fucking tics.”

“It’s not… Damon wouldn’t hurt you, like, really hurt you… would he?”

“Pft, he could try.” Ramsay zipped his bag.

“Don’t you need that dark phone?”

“ _Black_ phone? Yeah. Uh…” Ramsay looked around, “Where is it?”

Reek rested his chin on his knees and sadly muttered, “under your desk.”

“What? Where?”

Reek stared at his thumbnail and tried to scrape the pink “In the side cabinet on top your tower. You were putting information you got off a website into your phone when I woke up last night. You should get a new computer or not leave stuff like that on the tower ‘cause it gets really hot, it has no ventilation, and you leave it running all the time. It’s not good to let your phones get that hot. I was going to move it but I forgot because when I woke up and saw it, you weren’t here.” He scraped furiously at the nail polish until he scratched his cuticle. It a drop of blood welled up and spilled over. “ _Damn it_. You need to have a working with phone you.”

Ramsay took his hand and sucked the blood off his thumb. “Aren’t you going to ask me not to hurt him?”

“I warned him,” he continued in the same bleak monotone. “I tried to tell him. What can I do?” When he looked up at Ramsay, his shinning eyes were bright green again. “Is there something I can do?”

“I’m going to try to talk him into leaving, just for you.”

Reek blinked and his jaw slowly fell, pulling his lips apart. “R-really?”

“Really. What you can do is tell me everything I need to know about him.”

“Me? But, I don’t really know him that well. We only spent a few weeks together.”

“ _Living_ together. You’re very good at reading people. Just try for me. You do want to try to help, don’t you?”

“Yes! I don’t care if I never see or hear from him again, I swear! In fact, I _don’t_ want to ever see him again, but if he could go back to his life in his own separate world, it would mean so much to me! I don’t even-”

“Yeah, good, good. So,” Ramsay climbed on the bed, over Reek and played with his hair, “what is he afraid of?”


	21. Strange Kind of Love

 

“Look at this fiberglass Frankenstein kit piece of shit.” It had been a calm drive down the mountain until the land grew flat and civilization crept upon them. Ramsay pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his center consul and rolled down his window. “I bet you if I race him that bullshit extended exhaust will fall down or his spoiler will fly off.”

Jeyne giggled in the backseat. “I think he made that spoiler in shop class.”

Ramsay’s eyes flashed to the rearview mirror over a sharp grin. He sniffed out his cracked window before lighting a cigarette. “Smells like balsa wood and spray paint.”

Jeyne laughed but Reek groaned, gripping his head. “Ramsay,”

“No.”

“But, can I just-”

Ramsay blew a smoke ring towards his nose. “That’s an ‘O’ as in ‘NO’”

Reek sank against the car seat as a little smile pulled at his pressed lips. “Well, ‘no’ starts with ‘n’ so…”

“ _Well, hot shit_!” Ramsay slapped his leg hard enough to make him cry out. “I knewed I were makin’ you do my homeworks fer some reason! Hyuck!”

“Hmm.” Reek’s smile kept pushing his cheeks above his gritted teeth. He crossed his arms and stared out the window.

“Am I the funniest person you know, baby?” He smacked Reek’s cheek. “Huh? Huh? Am I?”

Reek leaned away from his swatting and poking. “You’re the funniest person _anyone_ has _ever_ known, Ramsay.”

“Fuck yes, I am.”

“You’re even funny at spelling,” he murmured.

“There is an ‘o’ in ‘no’, _sweetheart_. It’s the _only other_ fucking letter!”

“Ok,” Reek put up his hands in surrender.

“It’s the only vowel, you snippy little asshole. It would just be ‘nnh’ without an O, what the fuck would that mean?”

“Nnnhothing.”

“Did I say ‘no’ _STARTS_ with ‘o’? I didn’t! Did I?”

“No! You didn’t! You win.” Reek’s laugh was both nervous and giddy. He looked over to Ramsay with his hands still in the air. “You’re so handsomely right.”

Ramsay raised an eyebrow but looked at himself in the rearview mirror. “Oh?”

“Yeah, your hair is so nicely quaffed and tousled today. That uh, bedhead-on-purpose look is like so good with your strong jawline and uh…” he dropped his hands and crossed his legs. “I got a little hard just talking about it. Omph! Ohh, ow.” Reek bent over telling himself not to puke and holding his stomach. To his relief, Jeyne was laughing. She must have thought he was clownishly exaggerating.

“Jeyne, he’s being mean to me,” Ramsay pouted.

 _Did I look at her? I didn’t. Did I look towards the backseat?_ The more Reek thought about not noticing her in front of Ramsay the harder it was not to think about her.

“Be nice to Ramsay!” She pretended to scold him.

“Yeah!” Ramsay pushed Reek into the passenger door.

“Your hair is very nice though,” she said sweetly.

 _Too much, too much. Don’t let him like you._ If only he could look at her to give her a clue as to how to walk the narrow line safely away from them.

The engine of the cheap little car next to them revved and buzzed when the opposing lights turned yellow.

“Oh?” Ramsay looked over and smiled as the driver played bass heavy rap through subwoofers that had to take up its entire trunk. The modified fifteen year old Chevy Cavalier started rattling itself apart. Ramsay flicked his cigarette at the car and rolled up the window at last. “Looks like our buddy bought himself some low profile tires. Looks real sporty.” Ramsay peeled out and kept pace with the Cavalier until they came to a bridge. “Oh, common, pal, you almost got me,” he laughed and zipped ahead then watched his in rearview mirror as the car spun out and crashed into the guardrail. “Oh shit, fucker!” Ramsay laughed. “There goes the spoiler.”

“Oh my god,” Jeyne muttered, turned around and looking out the back window.

“Next time he’ll invest in snow tires, ha ha.”

Reek found he was smiling at Ramsay and it startled him. He should be concerned and shocked, like Jeyne. He remembered Damon saying one day you start consoling yourself by thinking at least you’re troubled by the fact that you don’t care like you should, and then one day you stop caring that you don’t care. But he wasn’t like Damon and he’d never hurt anyone. He rubbed the back of his palms into his eyes and tried not to see the face smiling so brightly in his memory.

“He’s fine,” Ramsay said, probably to Jeyne, but Reek nodded anyhow.

 

“What are you doing?”

Reek looked around, unsure. “What do you mean?”

Ramsay picked a quarter off the cart return. “You left this.”

“Oh, yeah.” Reek shrugged. “It’s… if someone doesn’t have a quarter... they can still get a cart.” Ramsay stared. “Sometimes finding a quarter can mean a snack from a vending machine or trying to sleep in your backseat sick with hunger so, I don’t know…”

Ramsay pinched and dangled the quarter to make sure he was looking then threw it in the sewer drain. “You wanna throw away my money? There. Now no one gets it.”

Jeyne walked ahead with the cart as if she didn’t hear.

 

 

“Are you sure you got everything?” Ramsay carried two grocery sacks, studying Jeyne as they left the store.

“Oh, yes, thanks so much! I wish you would have let me pay. You’re really too generous.” Jeyne kept glancing back at poor Theon who was struggling. Didn’t Ramsay notice? “Hey,” he looked up, a little startled, “I can take one of those for you.”

“No, no!” He said red faced. “What? This is nothing!”

She turned around and almost smacked into Ramsay. “You’d better let her. You’re shaking.” Poor thin Theon seemed to swallow his pride with some difficulty.

He smiled warmly. “Thanks, Jeyne.”

Ramsay popped his trunk from his key fob. “Time to go.”

 

“I guess we’re here,” Damon said dryly. His gaze ran up a white sidewalk to a red brick house under the gray sky. Loras pulled at his hand until he realized how hard he was gripping the steering wheel at let go with a sigh. Loras took Damon’s hand in both of his and ran his thumb over Damon’s knuckles.

 

Damon stopped on the porch and stared at the door. Loras rubbed the small of his back. Damon patted his head with little smile and knocked on the door. A somewhat heavyset woman with short tight brown curls opened the door.

“Um, Mrs. Cline?”

“Lord in heaven! Are you Damon? You northern folk, big and cold like your mountains. Well, come in, come in! Sit a spell, boys, I know you had a long trip in this positively awful weather.”

Damon looked at Loras with mild panic so Loras wrapped his fingers around Damon’s thumb and squeezed it. “It’s ok,” he whispered. “I can do the talking.”

Damon rubbed his temple and sighed before stepping across the threshold.


	22. Always the Sun

“Well, go on. Sit! Sit!” She hurried into the kitchen and yelled from it. “What do y’all want to drink?”

Damon shook his head. “Oh, just water, please.” Loras called. She came back with a colorful glass. Loras wondered if she had got at some kind of county fair. “Oh, thank you! It’s just lovely here compared to the freezer we left.”

“Oh yes, I don’t know how y’all can stand it. This is too cold for me! I am not a cold weather person, I tell you. Give me sunshine and work in the garden. You have a nice smile and healthy tan for a northern boy.”

“Oh! Thank you! I’m actually not a northern boy, _and_ these are not highlights! I’m a sunshine person myself!”

“Why was she cremated?” Damon demanded.

Mrs. Cline set down her glass of tea. “Oh. Well, her mother wanted some of her ashes.”

“Why?”

“I did too.”

“Her mother?” Damon scoffed and stood. “Fine. Give me the rest of her.”

“Damon,” Loras said softly.

“Is that it? It’s that hers?” Damon stomped over to a window seat and took the urn off the ledge. “Ah,” he turned his head away from the inscription and nodded. “Ok. Thank you.” He turned to Loras. “Can you… I’ll be in the car.”

 

Loras sat beside him and shut the door. Damon looked over through a mental fog. “Do you want me to drive?”

“Nah. Thanks.” Damon kept looking down at his steering wheel. He held the urn with one hand on his lap. “Did she uh… I didn’t think to ask how.” He looked at Loras then back to the steering wheel. “Was it bad?”

“No. She was sleeping… she was in a coma when she passed. They don’t think she suffered at all.”

“You’re not lying, are you?” he seemed to ask the steering wheel.

“No. It had something to do with her condition. There was too much salt… no- not salt”

“Calcium in her blood,” Damon realized. “Oh. Thank you. For coming and helping with that.”

“Did I really help you out?”

Damon smiled a little. “Fuck. What… do I put this? I can’t… trunk.” He shook his head and rubbed his temple.

“Is the lid secure?” Damon nodded. “How about the backseat? At least for now?”

Damon put it in the seat directly behind his. “Let’s go eat.”

“Ok.”

 

“How do you like your omelet?”

“Eh.”

“Do you want some hot sauce?”

“Nah.” Damon stabbed at the eggs and ate some hash browns.

“Are you sure you want to see your dad tomorrow? It’s a lot to take on in two days.”

“He’s not my dad.” Damon wiped his mouth and struggled to slide out of the booth. The table was too low and close to the seat. “I’ll be right back.”

Damon hurried around to the real reason he pulled over, a little blue and silver pay phone. He looked over his shoulder while the phone rang.

“Damon?”

He frowned and rolled his eyes. “How did you… look, can I come back or do you hate me or what?”

“The fuck? What happened?”

“Nothing. I just… are you gonna fucking kill me or not?”

“Come home, Damie.” Damon rested his head on the cement wall. “What is it? Stannis? Did you fuck yourself?”

“No. Its…”

“Damon, what do you need?”

 

“What the fuck’s wrong with you, huh?” Ramsay blew a spitball across the lunch table into some unfortunate kid’s curly hair.

“I’m going to have to move.”

“What?” Ramsay dropped his straw and snarled. “ _Why_?”

Damon shrugged but he was unable to look Ramsay in the eye. “Just because,” he mumbled sadly.

“What do you need?”

Damon looked up slowly. “Need?”

“To stay.”

 

“I can’t come over.” Damon’s voice cracked.

“ _Why_?”

“It’s Lysie. She’s so sick.”

“What do you need?”

“I don’t know. A doctor.”

“Well, I just happen to have one handy, jizz breath. Why did you even call? Just bring her over.”

 

“What do you need?”

“I have to get Lysie out of here. Chantelle’s going fucking crazy.”

“You have the fucking codes, what’s the problem?”

“I… it’s… she needs a quiet, safe…”

“Fine, fine. I get you some fucking money for a hotel and nanny then. There are empty apartments on the estate, you know.”

“Thank you.”

 

"Chantelle's in jail."

"Aw, shit. Where are they?"

Damon grimaced. "She wasn't making a lot of sense. She said Lysie's in a hospital somewhere for some reason."

"What do you need?"

 

“I’m sorry. I know you’d never hurt Lysie I wish I would have listened-”

“To continue your call, please deposit one dollar.”

“What the fuck?” Damon rifled through his pockets. “You piece of shit that was like five fucking minutes! Just do your fucking job, the one thing you have to do the only thing that matters you motherfucking…”

 

“Loras,” Damon muttered. He looked up and smiled. Damon dropped three hundreds on the table. “We have to go _now_.”

 

Loras may have thought the payphone had exploded if he hadn’t noticed Damon’s bloody knuckles first.


	23. Not a Spec of Light is Showing

 

“What do you want?”

“Um, the chicken sandwich meal with a coke.” Jeyne pulled a five out of her purse but Theon gave her a sideways glance and quickly shook his head. She hesitated before putting it back.

Ramsay tilted his head then leaned forward. “How about you?”

“I don’t know. What are you getting?”

“I can’t see the menu. Double meat something probably.” Ramsay leaned back and stretched. “You want to share French fries, baby?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll get you chicken nuggets then I can get some honey.”

“Honey mustard?” Reek muttered towards the ghost of his reflection.

“Nooo, just honey."

“Ah.” Reek pushed his mouth into a corner, resisting a smile. "I don't think they have just honey."

"Yes they do! I used to get it with my chicken nuggets when I was a kid. Remember?"

"Yeah, I think they did but I doubt they let kids have whole packets of honey anymore," Jeyne proposed sympathetically, "just because it's like basically sugar and people are so anti-sugar now."

"Well I'm a manly, grown up, grown ass man and I want HONEY for my motherfucking nummies!"

"Alright," Jeyne said patiently. "Just prepare yourself for the possibility of no just-honey and maybe warm up to honey mustard? Man, its such a long way to … anywhere from your house, huh?”

“Yeah, the estate is extremely remote.” Ramsay grinned and rolled a little closer to the car in front of them. “No one around for miles and miles and the roads are getting so icy. Sometimes you can get stuck up there.”

“Stuck?”

“Yeah.” The car in front of them pulled ahead to order. “Hey! I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner but, we’re going with Damon to my mum’s for Christmas; you should come.” He twisted around in his seat to find Jeyne smiling shyly behind him. He winked at her and spun back around. “It will be great.” He slapped his Reek’s knee. “Right?”

“Yes, s-sure.” Reek was staring out his window. “Look at that.” Thick grey clouds hung atop the smoky blue ridges looming in the skyline. “Why does it only snow on the mountain?”

“Pfft. Don’t you know, you fucking idiot?”

“What?”

Ramsay grabbed the top of his Reek’s head and turned it to face him. “Because I’m the one making it snow just for you, and our home is up there.” He smirked, shoving Reek’s shoulder. “Fucking finally! Goddamn, I am motherfucking starving over here and these bitches are ordering for the whole shit ass tri-state area!" He yelled, "HI!” out the window and glanced over to see if Reek was mouthing _be nice_ with his spider hands all clasped together but he was just gaping at Ramsay with round, shining eyes. “Shut up, stupid.” Ramsay laughed happily and messed his wavy hair. “HEY! Do you have honey for your chicken nuggets?"

"Honey?" a crackling voice repeated.

"Yes! HONEY! Bee vomit! I want bees to puke in my mouth. Do you have it?"

"We have honey mustard..."

"GOD DAMN IT!"

 

When they arrived back at the estate, there were men at the gate, the garage and one at the door. They didn’t look as cold as they had to be. Jeyne looked through her window trying to see if she could find her car anywhere.

Ramsay introduced her to a grim looking man with a bitter smile and calloused hands named Locke. Poor Theon didn’t look up at anyone while Ramsay was talking. “There will be people around 24/7 watching the gate, doors and windows.” He cupped Theon’s hollow cheeks with his quick hands. “I promise you’ll be safe. He won’t get you, you know that right?”

“ _Ramsay_ ,” Theon gasped, “please don’t.”

“What? I won’t scare her, I just said you’re perfectly safe and you are, just as long as you stay here. Right?”

The little color Theon still had left his weary face. “ _Please_.”

“What? What is it?” She asked. Her heart was pounding. What else is there? Each stone she overturned here had something grotesque crawling underneath. “Safe from whom?”

Theon put his hands over his ears and walked away shaking his head. Ramsay’s gaze followed him. He turned to Jeyne with heartbreak in his ice grey ices. “He doesn’t like to talk about it but I think you should probably know.”

 

“Damon, I am extremely concerned that this is an illogical step to take at this time in the state you’re in. A reasonable alternative would be to stick to the amended plan you made this morning and complete this task at a later, more suitable, date.”

Damon raised his eyebrow and sped up. “The fuck are you saying?”

“This is a really _really_ bad idea, seriously. We can call! We haven’t called yet! I… you’re being impulsive and that’s not like you and you don’t handle-”

“You don’t know me.”

Loras dropped his hands on his lap mid-explanation. “ _Wow_. Ok.” He crossed his arms. “Fine. Take me back to the cabin then.”

Damon took a deep breath. “Ok.” He took another. “That’s fair. I’ll turn around at the next gas station or whatever.” He rubbed his temple and went even faster down the highway.

Loras chewed his lip and imagined Damon walking into that house all by himself. “No. Wait. I’ll…” Damon looked over at him and waited with a quiet intensity for his decision, “… I’ll at least stay in the car… or go to the door. Ok, I’ll at least go to the door with you but then… well… I would go inside if you, like, _really_ wanted me to but _that’s it_!”

“You’re not going, but you will go, but that’s it?” Damon didn’t smile, exactly, but started to relax at last.

“Whatever.” Loras frowned and tapped his foot on the floorboard. “Well, I’m not going to lie and say I’m your boyfriend or lie and pretend I’m straight or some shit so don’t bother asking.”

“ _What_?” Damon growled.

Loras swallowed and sank back in his seat. “What?”

“ _Yes you are_. Do you understand?”

“Am what?”

Damon grabbed the neck of Loras’ shirt and yanked him by it. “ _MINE_.”

“OK!” Loras grabbed Damon’s wrist with both hands. “Don’t be so rough with me! I don’t like it!” Damon’s fingers curled tighter around his shirt. “Well, ha ha, sometimes I do.” He started giggling and let go of Damon’s wrist.

Damon released Loras’ shirt and let out a shaky laugh. “Really?” He swept the hair that had slid down over his eyes back and sighed.

Loras kept laughing. “It’s pretty hot that you’re so focused and, ha ha, goal oriented in bed. You’re so-”

Damon held up a hand to stop him. “Ok, ok.”

“You’re so fucking, like, _rawr_ and dedicated to your mission! I had no idea I would like it.”

“Ok,” Damon’s hand sliced through the air and came to an abrupt halt above his knee. “Don’t talk about sex in the car.”

“Why not? We’re alone, aren’t we? Wow, is this how to stop you from hulking out; tell you how good you are at fucking?”

“Ok, I said!” Damon snapped.

“What?!” Loras giggled himself silly. “But… how could it bother you? You should be such a conceited asshole, have you ever realized that?”

“Are you looking for the exit? It should be coming up so, just concentrate.”

“Now that I think about it though, I have always heard big guys were, like, real chill because they have nothing to compensate for. Is that why you’re like, ‘Hey. I’m Damon. Your physical form is pleasing to me. We are dating now.’”

“Hmm. Is that what I sound like? A robot?”

“’Is. That. What I. Sound like. Human companion?’”

Damon smirked.

“There’s the exit. If you’re internal GPS didn’t tell you already.”

Damon stole a glance at Loras and an ironic smile crept upon his face. “Oh, I’m Loras! We have ten seconds to diffuse a bomb but its ok! I know what wire to cut so I’ll just- _AH!_ I _love_ your watch! _Ooo, shiny_! No! No! Don’t worry! I’ll save you! You run to safety and I’ll cut the correct wire, which is the- OH MY GOD! I _JUST_ pictured chipmunks in little top hats! WHAT if they were debating about taxes?!” Damon’s hands clenched together just over the steering wheel and shot out. “ **BOOM**!”

“SHUT UP!” Loras laughed shoved at Damon who didn’t budge for him. He never did. “Heh heh, chipmunks thinking they’re people. That is pretty funny.”

“Loras… Jesus, man.” Damon turned to him and smiled.

“Debating about taxes. You don't have money, you silly chipmunks. It's actually unnecessary to develop a sense of humor with a face like yours and a body like that. I mean, you can just smack us human-sized people around with your bear paws, so maybe leave jokes to someone like me.”

“’To someone like poor little ugly old me’, shut the fuck up. You want to go fishing? Let’s get a boat and some rods and try to catch actual fish.”

Loras pouted coyly, “Oh, who would ever let poor little ugly me get my hands on their rod?”

“Nice.”

“Well?” Loras threw his hands up. “Do you have to have your cock in my mouth to give me a compliment or what?”

“Oh shit.”

“What?”

“I think we’re here already. Ugh, that was so much faster than I thought it’d be.” Damon parked the car across and down the road from 1520 Luke St. Maybe it was the wrong address and when they knocked at the door they could apologize and leave. Damon swallowed and turned off the engine. “I said today. That was the plan. I’m not putting it off until tomorrow. We practically drove all day.”

“We can come back.”

Damon stared at the house for a while before answering. “We’ll stick to the plan. This way we can start stalking Stannis tomorrow.” He never looked forward to a hit so much in all the years he’d been working for the Boltons. Damon needed to be back in his element so he’d just have to power through this bullshit and be done with it. Simple. What would it take? An hour, if that? Then he could say that he did it and never worry about this person again, that's all. Sit through awkward stupid small talk with some dude for a few minutes, and back to actual work. He drew another deep breath and nodded to himself. “Let’s go.” He stopped before opening the door and grabbed Loras’ shoulder. “Come inside with me.”

“Ok.”


	24. Walls Come Tumbling In

“Do you want me to do it?” Loras looked up with bright blue eyes. His finger hovered over the doorbell.

“No.” Damon cleared his throat and knocked. “There.” Each instant they waited ticked by painfully. “Well, it didn’t work.”

“Wait, someone’s moving in the house. Don’t be afraid.”

“ _Shut up_!” Damon whispered.

The door opened. A tall energetic woman stood in front of them on the other side. She had big hazel eyes under blunt highlighted sandy brown hair. Her easy smile fell when she saw Damon.

“Oh,” Damon stepped back. She was far too young, probably in her thirties. “I’m sorry.” He put his hand on Loras’ shoulder, hoping his mouth would start working a way out for them.

“I just…” she shook her head and tried to smile, “I was so sure it was a mistake.”

“It was.” Damon pulled Loras back by his shirt.

“JOSEPH!” She leaned back into the house. “JOEY!”

“Yeah.” It sounded like his own voice approaching but lower and more worn.

“No.” Damon found he had backed up to the end of their little stone porch. A car door closed in a neighboring driveway. He jerked as if it was gunshot. Loras was saying something calmly while the world came off its axis.

“Damon?” He found Loras' face. “Are you alright? Just relax. _Your hands_ …” Loras tried to shield Damon from the door and raised his right hand for Damon to see. It was balled into a tight fist.

Damon unclenched his hands. “ _Do I look crazy?” he whispered._

“ _No, not at all. You look cool_ ,” he smiled a little, “ _as a robot. We can come back_.”

“Maybe.”

“Hey.” Damon looked straight over Loras’ head and saw a man who looked very much like himself rubbing his temple and forcing an awkward smile. “Wow,” the man, who must be Joseph, said. He looked at his wife. She laughed with tears in her eyes, touched his arm then looked to Damon and Loras. She shook Loras’ hand and they said pleasant things to each that Damon didn’t really hear.

“I thought you’d be older,” Damon heard himself saying.

“I thought you’d be wrong,” Joseph spouted with an awkward laugh. “Shit.”

“I can leave.”

“Joseph!” His wife smacked his arm. “I’m Stephanie.” She popped in front of Damon and shook his hand. “I’m sorry. It’s hard to know what to do, isn’t it?”

“Well, you wanna beer?” Joseph shrugged.

“I’m, uh, not 21.”

“Oh. Well, better do it inside where the neighbors can’t see," he said flatly with a hint of a smile.

“Heh.” Damon looked to Loras for help.

“How about we just have one drink and go? That way we don’t take up too much of your time. We, or he, can always come back or just call another day. Does that sound good?”

“Sure.” Damon shrugged.

“Yeah.” Joseph winced a bit and rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“Hey,” Joseph smacked Damon’s shoulder, “sit in my chair!”

“What?” Damon grumbled incredulously, looking him over.

“This one.”

“We had it specially made for him. You know, for his size.” Stephanie yelled from the kitchen. “Go on, try it out.”

Damon cleared his throat and looked to Loras who grinned brightly. “Oh.” He sat down and sighed. “Mmm.” He nodded. “Nice.”

“Right?” Joseph nodded.

“Huh, neck support,” Damon laughed awkwardly.

“And the knees, right? Getting out is easy. See? You’re not starting out so low. Hey! I should get you one!”

“Joey, let’s start with offering the poor guy a drink first.” Stephanie came out of the kitchen with a tray. She looked up at Joseph with a patient adoration. “ _Don’t rush him_.”

“ _I’m not_.”

“Lemonade for Loras?”

“Thank you!”

“Beer for Damon? You aren’t driving, are you?”

“No, no, I can drive. This is delicious!” Loras glanced past her at Damon.

“I, uh,” Damon eyed the can of Miller light uneasily and tried to smile, “nah. Thanks.”

Joseph leaned against the wall next to the kitchen entrance studying Damon. A little smile eased onto his face. “Wine?”

Damon smiled shyly. “Sure.”

Joseph nodded and ducked into the kitchen. Stephanie and Loras went on happily talking about nothing. Damon took a glass Joseph silently offered. Damon cleared his throat again and tried not to smile. “That’s a smooth merlot.”

Joseph nodded and grinned. “Hey,” he suddenly spoke over Loras, “lis ten, I didn’t know until now. I swear.”

“I know.” Damon shifted in Joseph’s comfortable seat and downed the rest of his glass.

“Well, I was wondering what I could do for you.”

“Joey!" Stephanie looked a bit exasperated and ran her fingers through her hair.

“No. Hey, I don’t want anything from you.” Damon put his hands up defensively. “I’m not… that’s not what this is.”

“No, no,” Joseph got a little louder and stepped forward. “I’m not accusing you, or trying to, I don’t you, buy you off or something.”

“Joseph likes to give one word answers so he doesn’t put his foot in his mouth." Stephanie said with a tense laugh. "He’s just very earnest and if you knew him you’d know-”

“Well, I _don’t_ know him,” Damon muttered.

“Well, you're my responsibility and I want to help you get through college.”

“No!” Damon jumped up and walked to the door. He tried to speak softer and more calmly. “No, I’m not your anything. I think this was a good start. _Loras._ ” Damon pointed to the door. Loras stood as Stephanie covered her mouth and closed her eyes.

“Shit. Come on,” Joseph stood in front of the door and raised his open hands, “don’t leave. I want to talk to you about your future.”

“Joey, it’s too soon,” Stephanie cried from where she sat with her head in her hands.

“Who is that? That little boy.” Damon pointed to a group of photos on their entertainment center.

Stephanie stood and looked at the photos with him. “That’s J.J.”

“You have a kid? You didn’t say you had a kid! I don’t want to break up your family!”

“You’re not! Just sit down,” Joseph demanded calmly.

Damon grabbed Loras’ hand. “I have to go.” He looked up at Joseph blocking the door and felt a panic he hadn’t known for years.

“Don’t,” Joseph pleaded. He looked to his wife and shook his head helplessly.

She wrapped her arm around his back. “Honey, let the poor boy go. He’s overwhelmed.”

“Well,” Joseph’s eyes dropped and he moved aside, defeated. “Will you at least-”

Damon slid past, dragging Loras with him and shot through the door. They ran for his car and dove in. “Put on your seatbelt!” Damon blurted. Once he heard the click he peeled out.

He slowed to the speed limit once he hit the highway and tried to catch his breath. Loras wiped tears spilling down his cheek with his sleeve. “Well,” Damon said at last, “that went pretty well. Don’t you think?”

Loras turned slowly to look at him and burst out laughing. Damon started laughing too, in a way he could hardly control. He hugged Loras with his free arm then rubbed his eyes. “Well, shit.”


	25. Lay My Head on the Hood of Your Car

Damon held his forehead and sighed. “I ran out of there like I stole something, huh?”

Loras laughed and rubbed his eye. “It’s fine. I think it was good.”

“He was _bigger_ than me. Fuck! I was like, ‘I don’t know if I can beat this dude up.’”

“What? Why would you?” Loras was leaning back and squeezed handfuls of his thick curls. His grin was nearly a grimace.

“I don’t know. I just… I always know I can and… but then I didn’t! Goddamn daughterfucking shit-ass cunt balls!”

“Cunt ball?”

“Did you notice he was a fucking Marine? Of course he was.” Damon gripped his head and groaned.

“I… but, you didn’t go there to rough him up… right?”

“No.”

Damon spun smoothly around a loop and merged onto a toll road. He pulled up and yanked a ticket from tollbooth then shot off, heading south. “Cold, huh?” He stuffed the ticket in his visor and flipped it back up. He wished he were driving his old car; the one Ramsay wrecked. That wasn’t as roomy but it was a stick and his hands desperately needed something to do.

"How did you know he was a Marine?"

"He has a Semper Phi tattoo on his arm. He seemed nice, I think. Came on a little strong though. I don’t know what that was about.”

“I think he just wants to do the right thing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m no one’s fucking project." Loras resisted pointing out some hypocrisy he found funny, reminding himself comedy is all about timing. Damon sighed."I need a drink. You hungry? Oh shit!”

Loras sat up. “What?”

“My phone! Here. Who is it?”

“Your dad.”

“ _Do not_ call him that. Do you fucking understand me?”

“Sorry.” Loras tilted Damon cell phone back and forth. “Should I answer it?”

“NO!”

“Okay.”

“Make it shut up!”

“Hold on. I’ll try.” Loras frowned. “Well, it’s locked! You have to unlock it!”

“Will that answer it?”

“No… I’m pretty sure that doesn’t answer it.”

“Shut up and fix it!” The vibrating stopped. They both looked at the phone and exhaled. It vibrated once more.

 

1 NEW VOICEMAIL

 

“Delete it. No, listen to it and tell me what it says, _then_ delete it.”

“You still have to unlock it.”

Damon snatched the phone and tapped in his code then thrust it back into Loras’ hands. Loras hit play and put the phone to his ear.

 

“Damon, it’s, uh, your,” he cleared his throat over his wife whispering in the background, “… Joseph. Well, there are things we really need to work out. I have to tell you about your medical history. There’s a genetic condition you have to be tested for so you need to call me back soon. You have grandparents, cousins and a brother who all deserve to know you.” Stephanie reprimanded him in a frantic whisper Loras couldn’t make out. “Yeah, honey. _I kno_ w!” There was a brief pause then Loras heard a door shut. “ _Its… when I saw you it was like when I saw J. J. for the first time_. I mean, it was different, of course, you’re a man already… he was this pink, wet, alien with a squishy head, heh.” Joseph sniffled and cleared his throat again. “I know it too late for a lot of things. I want you to know though, when I saw you on my doorstep I had that same overwhelming feeling; like I knew and loved you already. Like you’ve always been here. Well… I hope I hear from you.”

Damon momentarily hung his head on the steering wheel when tears ran down Loras’ cheeks. “Don’t tell me, ok? I can’t right now.”

“Ok. I won’t,” Loras blubbered.

“Aw.” Damon rubbed his back. “Don’t worry. We’ll go back to the cabin and have a nice dinner with wine. We’ll wake up and start again tomorrow; back on track.”

“Damon,” Loras shook his head and laughed even as he was crying, “it’s not about me! This is terrible.” Loras buried his face in his hands. He spoke while his palms pulled his mouth wide. “You shouldn’t be the one comforting me. I’m so sorry. I want to help.”

“It’s ok, it’s ok. You are.” Damon slid two fingers under Loras’ chin. His perfectly symmetrical profile rose with Damon’s fingers. A thick swirl of golden hues hung in front of his slightly upturned little nose. “I like it.”

Loras looked him over suspiciously. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No!” Damon laughed. “See? Don’t I look better?” He grinned in the same boyish way he had when he first saw Loras. He looked guileless and so handsome that Loras kissed him.

 

Ramsay leaned around Jeyne to look at Reek standing on the landing. Reek held onto the railing and looked back over his shoulder. Ramsay bit the side of his lip and glanced upstairs then smiled. He lowered his voice as Reek trudged up the staircase and turned to Jeyne. “Did you ever hear about Robb Stark?”

“Of course.” Jeyne swooned under a sudden realization. “I never put it together… he’s _that_ Theon? Theon Greyscale, right? That escaped with his brother when Robb burned their house down?”

“Something like that.”

Jeyne covered her mouth and looked around. “Oh! His hypervigilance and reticence make so much sense.” She brought her hands to her cheeks. “I get it. All the security… oh.” Jeyne leaned backward. “Of course he’s a wreck!” Jeyne looked at Ramsay’s eyelashes. “He’s really attached to you.”

“Yeah?” Ramsay snapped like a hungry dog at meat.

“It seems like when he feels unsafe just talking about you calms him down.” She looked into his snowy eyes. “I hope you won’t be gone too long.”

“No.” Ramsay said softly, letting the word hang a moment. His smile fell away and searched her face with an expression she struggled to read. At first he looked like they were sharing a joke then his eyes narrowed and mouth curled in one corner. She felt seen, in a terrible way, down to her center, and when he tilted his head and winked that’s exactly what she heard, _I see you_.

Ramsay grinned again and spoke comfortably, slipping a relaxed arm around her shoulders. “I won’t be gone long. Don’t worry _too_ much.”


	26. It's so Cold in Alaska

 

            When Ramsay walked in Reek was sitting cross-legged at the foot of his bed staring out the balcony. His silhouette was dwarfed by the grey sky and the giant evergreens bending slightly for the howling wind. Ramsay watched his sharp shoulders rise and push back each time his chest heaved. He ran his tongue over his front teeth and crawled onto the bed.

            Ramsay grabbed Reek’s hair at the scalp and pulled his head back, bending his jaw away so he was falling in slow motion, swooning over Ramsay’s touch, arching back, lost, _his_. It was wet and salty below his ear. Ramsay straddled Reek’s pokey little back. Reek unfolded his legs and let them swing over the mattress to accommodate his thighs. Ramsay’s tongue ran up the salty trail and kissed his Reek’s closed eye.

            Reek shuddered. “ _Please_.”

            Ramsay wrapped his arms around his Reek’s shoulders and nipped at his perfect lost puppy ear. Reek started shaking in his arms and gulping in air with little cries. The vibrant world he kept locked inside started colliding at the fault lines, jerking his busy head this way then that. His arms tensed from the shoulders down and his dumb, elegant hands balled into tight fists. A growl came through his clenched teeth and died as a whimper. His chest pumped faster. Ramsay smiled, biting his lip, and rubbed his nose into the sandy mess of hair he loved. Reek’s head stilled. Ramsay lifted up from sitting on his ankles and splayed his fingers in anticipation then Reek tried to bolt away. His good foot just scraped the carpet when Ramsay caught and squeezed him.

            “ _Please! Please!_ ” He could hardly stop himself now, tossing around uselessly like a fish in a net, but Ramsay is so patient.

            “Shh.” Ramsay soothed him. “Where are you going, puppy?”

            Reek groaned, clenching his jaw, trying so hard not say it. He’s smart enough to realize any attempt to save his friend would only end as another nail in a coffin engraved with flowers. It fascinated Ramsay to watch the violence inside him. It looked as though he were possessed or dying. " _Nowhere_ ,” he moaned at last.

            “That’s right, sweetie. You’re going to stay right here for me and be very good while I’m away, aren’t you, pet?”

            Reek moaned and sank into his arms, becoming rigid then pliable in turns. “ _Yesss_.” He bit into the word as though it was a leather strap.

            Ramsay nuzzled his cheek into Reek’s sweaty hair and pulled him closer. “Are you angry with me, puppy?” Ramsay rolled his head down so his mouth was just at the precious ear he’d made perfect. He ran his tongue across his sharp canines and grabbed Reek by his inner thigh to pull his ass closer. He started bending Reek forward and wrapped a hand around his neck. He pulled the other up over his jagged hipbone and around his lower back.

            “No, of course not,” Reek rasped in a tight voice. “Please,” he choked when Ramsay’s warm fingers ran down the back of the boxers he’d borrowed, “ _I don’t want to…_ ” And suddenly, there he was. Broken, not angry. Soft, not tense. Passive, present, beautiful. His head rolled back onto Ramsay’s shoulder. He bit his lip and rolled his hips. “Ah,” Reek stiffened and winced. “Ow.”

            Ramsay tightened his grip on Reek’s neck.  He spoke with his lips brushing Reek’s perfect ear. “Do you love me?”

            Ramsay felt Reek’s Adam’s apple bob against the palm of his hand. “Yes, Sir. Ah!” His spine arched from his hips rolling all the way up to his head, which pressed into Ramsay’s shoulder.

            “That’s a good boy.” Reek gripped Ramsay’s knee and turned his head. “Don’t fight it. I want to hear all your pretty noises.”

            “I can’t…”

            Ramsay’s eyes narrowed and his tone sharpened. “You _can’t_ or you _don’t want to_? Let’s see if you _can_.” He moved the hand choking his Reek to his panting mouth and shoved two fingers inside. “Go on, Reek. You know what I want, don’t you?” His tongue was already caressing Ramsay’s fingers; running back and forth before he’d finished asking. He started swirling his tongue around them then slowly pushing his head back and forth, sucking as he pulled back. “ _Good boy_.” Ramsay exhaled into his neck. “What noises can you make?” He pulled his wet fingers out and reached into the front of the boxer’s Reek had borrowed. He massaged Reek into getting harder while he cried out. He used Reek’s precum to swirl around his head then down as the two fingers inside made circles pushing up into his prostate. “You know how good this will feel when I get back? You’ll lose your broken little mind.”

            “ _Oh fuck_!” Reek’s pink sparkly nails dug into Ramsay’s knee. His toes splayed out while his heel dug into the carpet. “Oh, mmm-mm”

            “Oh, _what_?” Ramsay growled, biting into the back of his neck.

            “ _Master!”_

“Who the fuck am I?”

            “MASTER! Oh, fuck! Ah!”

            “That’s right, I fucking am” Ramsay snapped. He pulled his hands away. Reek shuddered and curled in on himself. Ramsay wiped his hands on his jeans and snapped, pointing to the floor. Reek turned to face him and dropped to his knees. “Do you want to be a good boy for me?"

            “Uh huh.” Reek bit his lip. His cheeks were hot and his hands were running up Ramsay’s thighs before he could stop them. They met to pull the button out from its slit.

Ramsay caught his hands and pulled his thumbs back. “Do you think I’m your whore, baby? Or are you mine?”

“I’m yours.”

“What’s that?” Ramsay leaned in turning his ear towards Reek as he squinted.

“I’m your whore, Ramsay.”

Ramsay pressed his lips together and swallowed. “Good boy. Put your hands behind your back and beg for me.”

“Please, Master. Please, _I need it_ -”

Ramsay jumped up to pull his pants down and knocked Reek onto his back before he could finish. “Aw, come here, puppy.” Ramsay tore at the Cannibal Corpse shirt hanging on his Reek to pull him up. “It’s ok, it’s ok,” he whispered frantically and slapped Reek’s hand away from his nose. “Open your mouth. Ah,” Ramsay’s head rolled back when he took Ramsay until he gagged. “Good boy, it’s ok. Shh, just take it for me.” Ramsay grabbed his hair with both hands and started fucking his throat. Reek grabbed his thighs to steady himself. He whined and gagged again but didn’t push away. “I know, pet. I know you were going to give me the best fucking head like you always do. I just…” but he stopped himself. “You look so fucking pretty like this, _fuck_.” He swallowed and sped up. He slapped Reek’s face. “Hands behind your back.” Reek whimpered but complied. “Keep looking at me. Ah, _you’re fucking perfect_.” Ramsay jerked out and came on his face. “Open your eyes. _Look at me_.”

Reek rolled his wide, watery, pleading eyes up. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck!” Ramsay grabbed the hair above his forehead with one hand and his chin with the other. “Open,” he barked though he forced Reek anyhow. His cock sputtered the last of the load into Reek’s mouth. Reek swallowed and gently caressed Ramsay with his tongue the way he liked when he was sensitive after coming. Ramsay pet his hair lovingly. “I love you like this,” he whispered. 

Reek blinked his left eye several times. It started watering and wincing shut but he tried so hard to keep looking at Ramsay that Ramsay hesitated to wipe his face.

 _Mine. Perfect and mine._ “Come on, puppy. I’ll clean you up and get you ready.”

 

He could hardly finish washing Reek without taking him in the shower but he managed to pull out, get him out, and dry them both off before he slid an arm under his little white ass and picked him up. Wrapping his other arm around to clench the back of Reek’s head, he pushed him into the wall and kissed down from his hollow shoulder to his nipple. Ramsay licked it and asked, almost to himself, “You promise to be good? If you’re bad we might have to make another alteration for correction purposes.” He bit down on Reek’s nipple and squeezed him when he cried out and froze.

“I’ll be good! I promise!”

Ramsay smiled and pulled back. “Yeah?” He carried Reek towards the bed. “Are you familiar with the concept of a ‘whipping boy’?”

“Yeah, I think so. Is that what I am for you?”

Ramsay frowned bitterly. “Nooo, think harder, you fucking idiot. A whipping boy isn’t just beat for fun.” Ramsay smiled and shrugged a shoulder as if he thought he was flirting. “They’re beaten in place of someone else, someone very special who was very bad. Someone too valuable to tear apart. For a sensitive little prince, like you, it was very effective to see an innocent person suffer because you were stupid or selfish.”

“What did I do? I don’t understand.”

Ramsay rolled his eyes then dropped Reek on the bed and bent down to pull out his toy box. He smirked at Reek before standing and  dropping the chest at the foot of the bed. “Nothing. That’s why I haven’t done anything except be polite. I’m even going to help you stay out of trouble. Isn’t that generous?”

“Yes, Sir.” Reek furrowed his brow, trying to understand.

“Reek,” Ramsay said patiently, “we already talked about this, remember?”

“About Loras?”

“No, stupid, not Loras.” Ramsay smiled and shook his head. He opened his toy box and took out his generous gift. “Are you as literal as a Kindergartner? It doesn’t have to actually be a _boy_.”

Reek dropped his head. “Do I have to wear that the whole time?”

“Obviously. It’s for your own good… and hers. Alyn has the spare key if there’s some kind of emergency.”

“Oh god!” Reek covered his face with both hands.

“I don’t even know what kind of ‘emergency’ that would be but you know me, always err on the side of caution.”

“Holy shit, he doesn’t know what it’s _for_ , does he?”

Ramsay laughed. “I didn’t ask. You want to wear the collar or maybe an ankle cuff so he won’t figure it out?”

“Oh god,” Reek muttered into his hands.

“And, I already did talk to you about Loras. Your memory is getting worse. We’ll have to tell Qyburn.” He patted Reek’s leg. “Well? Get on your back.”

Reek’s chin quivered but rolled onto his back without protesting. Ramsay slipped the ring on. Reek pressed his palms harder into his face.

“What I said was, I’ll talk to him and give him a chance to leave you, me, and Damon alone forever. If that doesn’t work…” A few clicks and Ramsay picked up the tiny padlock. He shut and locked it then leaned over Reek. Supporting himself with one hand, he used the other to pull Reek’s hands away from his eyes. Ramsay’s fingers dug into the comforter as if it was a lover’s back. His eyes rolled and closed as he licked his lips. “… then I will skin him alive.” His hard dick was already pressing in between Reek’s ass cheeks. He looked down in mock coyness. “Well, just look at what you do to me.” Ramsay leaned over and pulled out lube from the top drawer in his nightstand. Reek stared at the ceiling, unfocused and numb.

 

When Jeyne came out for breakfast the next morning, Theon was hugging his knees to his chest, sitting in front of the locked front door, watching the snow fall on their mount through the windows that ran alongside it.


	27. Gimme Your Hands

Alyn woke up sweating. He groped around the bed for his alarm clock. An empty bottle made a thud then ting on the floor. It was almost noon already. He grunted and hurried to untangle himself from soft thermal sheets. The house was cold and silent. A wrapper crinkled under his barefoot. He stumbled over the down comforter and kicked it against the closet door.

Coughing down the hall, he scratched at the dry, tight wound on his chest. No one yelled at him to leave his scabs alone. In the bathroom he washed his hands, looking beyond the mirror. There was always ointment and gauze he could use in the medicine cabinet but he turned off the light and left instead.

When Alyn came downstairs he realized how silent the Bolton’s museum mansion was and quickened his pace. The living room was empty. The kitchen only had a dirty glass and bowl in the sink. In the dining area he heard a voice at last and headed for the front entrance.

“Let’s at least drink something, ok?” Jeyne looked up from where she was kneeling when she heard Alyn stomping towards them. She lowered her voice. “We can watch any movie you want. _Please get up_.”

Theon was sitting on the tile looking at the door until Alyn stood in front of him. “What are you doing?”

Theon only rested his chin on his knees.

Jeyne stood up slowly, wrapping her arms around her chest. “He hasn’t been very responsive. I think he’s depressed.”

“Oh.” Alyn nodded knelt down to look Theon in his unfocused eyes. “ _GET. UP_.”

“Hey,” Jeyne started to protest.

“ _NOW_!”

“He’s upset!”

Alyn’s head tilted back as he assessed things. “Did you fuck up?” Theon closed his eyes and shook his head as he lowered it. “Ew, do you miss Ramsay already?” Theon looked up at Alyn with the saddest expression he’d seen since Damon got that terrible call, so he slapped his face.

Theon leapt to his feet and Alyn followed him. “ _What the fuck, man?_!”

“There!” Alyn rested his hands on his hips and pulled his mouth back on one side. “Better. Now eat.”

“WHY did you do that?” Theon’s hands flew out in furious exasperation.

Alyn frowned. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek and his eyebrow rose sharply. “When Ramsay does it you laugh.” Theon made strange face and his hands dropped to his side. He grinned after a moment. “Yeah, but… that’s different. And doesn’t do it hard.”

“Oh.”

 

Theon forced a breakfast bar into his dry mouth. Jeyne pushed his pills and a glass of milk towards him with a tilt of her head. Theon offered a flat smile and took his medicine.

“I’m going down the mountain. You have to come with me.” Alyn announced while pulling beer and pizza out of the refrigerator. He turned, shutting the door with his elbow then pointed to Theon. “You,” he pointed to Jeyne, “not you.”

“Why?” Theon asked exchanging a glance with Jeyne.

“We’ll leave in about fifteen minutes and be back in two hours or so.”

“But, what do you need me to do?”

“Not die,” Alyn said with a mouthful of pizza as he left the kitchen.

Theon got up and hurried after him.

 

“Alyn?”

“ _What_?”

“What is this?”

Alyn shoulders tensed and he stopped. “WHAT?”

Theon looked back towards the kitchen and leaned in to whisper, “ _Do you need me to help you kill someone?_ ”

Alyn turned around. “ _You_?” He looked Theon over, raising an eyebrow and shook his head. “Idiot.”

Theon watched Alyn climb the stairs then wandered towards the West Wing of the estate. He paced up and down the connecting hallway until he gave in and pulled out his phone.

 

“Miss me already?”

“Ramsay,” he whispered, “Alyn’s going down the mountain into town and he’s making me come with him!”

“So?”

“But! I mean… is he taking me to the woods to shoot me or to get drugs or…”

“Probably,” Ramsay laughed.

“ _He slapped me_ and now he wants to take me with him somewhere _alone_!”

“Aw. I told you he likes you.”

Theon slumped against the wall. “Can’t you come back?”

“Not yet. It will be ok. Just keep your phone with you.”

“Can’t you tell him not to take me, or not to hit me?”

“Gotta go.”

“Right now? I’m not doing well… I’m not ready...” Theon stopped to pull his phone away and check the screen. It didn’t even say ‘Call Ended’; it was already on his lock screen.

 

“Huh?” Theon looked up from picking at his thumbnail. “Could I use that nail polish remover?”

“I said, ‘Are you still with me?’ Here,” Jeyne dug through her purse, “wait, hold on. Yeah, here it is.”

“Thanks.” Theon twirled the short, fat bottle in one hand. He looked over at her, “so… how do I use this?”

“Just ram your fingers in until you scrub the polish off.”

“Oh.” Theon unscrewed the lid and poked at the wet sponge. They both looked up when the heard something crash upstairs. “Do you think I’ll make it back?” he asked miserably. Jeyne laughed and something pleasant rekindled within his chest. “The worst part is there’s no room in the passenger’s side of his truck.”

"What? You have to squeeze in the back with all the beer cans and oily toolboxes?” She winced in sympathy.

“Nah. He’s going to chain me to the grill.”

“No, Theon!” Jeyne curled forward, giggling. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Is it?”

“It can’t be legal. Not in this state.”

“Well, he has regulation war paint and feathered hockey gear, so we should be good, right?”

“No. No. You’re body should be wholly within the confines of the cab. Theon, this is pretty basic, like, safety 101 stuff.”

“What about assless leather chaps?”

“No!” Jeyne’s head was tossed back as she held her sides, laughing. He pumped his finger into the wet sponge’s soft slit and pursed his lips together. “That does little to nothing for your safety!”

“I know; that’s just what I wear on Sundays.”

“Oh my god.”

“I was offering.”

“EW!” He saw her smooth little toes grip the loveseats upholstery. Her delicate hand landed on her chest as she fell on her back laughing.

“Is that a ‘no’? I mean have you tried though?” He could practically see the rose petal nipples on her perky little breasts.

“Theon!”

“What?” He smirked and licked his lips. His pumped two fingers into the tight, dripping sponge. The suction seemed to squeeze his fingers up and in for more. He held his breath. _Just say my name again._ A hand smacked the back of his head. “Nothing!” Theon jumped and threw his arms up defensively. The bottle went flying behind him and bounced on the tile three times before rolling into the wall.

Alyn frowned down at him. “Let’s go, spaz.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry, I forgot.” Theon jumped up and over the couch. “I’ll just clean this up and get shoes.”

Alyn stood in his way. “No shoes. The girl will clean it.” He pushed Theon by his shoulder. “Go.”

Theon felt another smoldered ember ignite. “Ok, _pal_ ,” he said through gritted teeth, trying to hide the change inside. He waved to Jeyne apologetically and followed Alyn.

Alyn turned pulled a winter jacket out of the hall closet by the garage. “Here, pal.” He threw it at Theon and went into the garage.

Theon looked at the jacket in his hands feeling something more than confused. He heard Alyn’s big black pick up start and hurried out putting the jacket on. It smelled like Ramsay. The garage door opened to reveal a blanket of clouds over a big grey sky. The air was cold and sweet.

“Hey!” Alyn snapped his fingers and pointed to the truck. “Move, bitch.”

Theon felt it again, like he was waking up already. _I’m never gonna make it._ Alyn laid on the horn. Theon took the few deliberate steps to his truck and climbed inside.

 

“Are you doing that thing?” Alyn coughed and flicked his cigarette out the window.

Theon looked up from his clasped hands. “What's that?”

"Are you seeing looney tunes or something?”

“I… I’m not having a seizure if that’s what you mean. I won’t respond if I am and I don’t really get them a lot so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Oh.”

“I was just curious because it’s so weird.”

Theon tried to read Alyn’s expression but he just looked out the windshield as though he were reciting his grocery list to himself instead of mocking the sensitive, personal issues of the poor captive beside. “It’s not that weird. Lots of people have those seizures as kids. Its not big deal.”

“Why don’t you just snap out of it when you start to go crazy?”

“If you can ‘snap out of it’ then it’s not a seizure.”

“I don’t know about that.” Alyn looked both ways before turning. “Maybe you just haven’t tried hard enough."

“Fuck you.”

Alyn finally looked at him. “Fuck me?”

Theon swallowed and crossed his arms. “Just leave me alone. I’m not trying to bother you.”

“I don’t _want_ to deal with you! This shit wasn’t my idea,” Alyn’s voice kept getting louder and his hands clenched the wheel tighter, “but Ramsay and Damon are my brothers and Ramsay asked me to do him this favor so I’m going to do it because I’m not a self-centered, whiny, little bitch. Like you are. That's you, the whiny bitch.”

Theon put his hands up and leaned towards the door. “Ok, fine.” He mirrored Alyn’s bitterness in his smile. “Whatever you say, _pal.”_

“I don't want to hold you hostage.” Alyn said, as though he was indulging Theon with a secret concession made between them. “I could have just locked you up, if this was business. You know how much easier that is?”

“Well,” Theon made a circle with a pink fingernail around the pointiest part of his knee, “why didn’t you?”Alyn turned to look at him face to face. Theon’s eyes widened and his hands perched in the air just below his face.

“Because we’re friends, asshole.” He turned back to the windshield looking as unhappy as ever.

Theon lowered his hands. “We are?” Alyn’s eyes slid over, glaring. Theon smiled and Alyn rolled his eyes. Theon clasped his hands. His pink sparkling thumb lay over the stripped one. “Thanks, Alyn.”

Alyn made a noise in between a huff and laugh and slapped Theon’s back. “Do you still want to hit me?”

Theon started. “Huh. Uh, no. No, man.”

Alyn smiled. “Good. It wouldn’t go well for you, bitch.”

Theon grinned. “You think so?”

“Yeah.” They came to a red light and Alyn suddenly whipped around to look Theon in the face. He leaned in with excitement. “You wanna find out?”

“Not really.”

“Oh.” Alyn slunk back into this seat.

“You actually kinda scare me, Alyn.”

Alyn raised an eyebrow and glanced at him. “Hmm. Do you think that’s because you’re fucked up, or because I am?”

Theon laughed and at first Alyn was furiously injured, but Theon kept smiling at him so Alyn held his anger while he tried to understand just what the fuck was so funny. “I think it’s more me being fucked up then you, honestly. Don’t you think you’re doing life better? I don’t know if what I’m doing could even be considered ‘functioning’. Fuck!”

Alyn relaxed, feeling much better. Theon kept staring and smiling at Alyn, so he tried to smile back and nodded. “Don’t worry. Even if you’re useless, you still make people smile. That’s a good thing to do.”

“Thanks.” Theon smiled and spoke softly, looking down and his hands again. “Hey, if I did fight you, could there be some ground rules or would you go berserk on me?”       

“No, no. We can use whatever rules you want, pal!”

Theon’s expression changed into something not angry, happy, or sad – as far as Alyn could tell. He squinted at Alyn like he was just noticing something. “I don’t know if I could go three whole days without someone beating the shit out me. I might go into withdrawal or something.”

Alyn shrugged. “Uh, I mean…” Alyn scratched his head. “I can help you if you’re withdrawing but I don’t really want to just… beat you. Not that I care what you get off on. Ain’t hurting me or mine. It’s just that you’re so pathetic already. If you aren’t fighting back I wouldn’t feel good about smashing your face in. But if you need to fight-”

“No, Alyn…” Theon stared at him like his fragile brain was stalling, until he finally smiled. “Thanks, pal.”


	28. Sometimes Won't Know How to Take Him

“Ok,” Alyn sighed and parked the car in front of a dark trailer, “stay in the car.” He took the keys out of the ignition. Freezing air whipped inside as soon as he opened his door.

“Alyn?”

“What?”

“Are you going to be long? It’s, like, fifteen degrees outside.”

“So?”

“Could you leave the car running?” Alyn scratched the scruff on his face. “I’ll be cold… real fucking cold.”

Alyn grunted, or it could have been a word, and tossed Theon the keys.

“Thanks,” The door slammed before Theon could finish. Theon started the car and felt a rush when it rumbled back to life. The tailgate fell open with a thunk that shook the truck. Alyn walked off into a trailer carrying large rectangles of cardboard under his arm.

It was impossible not to see himself leaving. Damon was taking Loras somewhere south, all he’d have to do is drive with his left shoulder to the setting sun until he either ran out of gas, or whatever disaster was waiting overtook him. He crossed his arms on the dashboard and let his head fall when he remembered: _What about Jane?_

The phone Ramsay once threw up to him as a gift, a lifetime ago, buzzed on his leg. RAMSAY CALLING.

Theon slowly raised his head and looked around the frozen trailer park. “Hello?”

“Not shot in the head?”

“That’s not funny,” he pleaded miserably.

“It’s a little funny.”

“Where are you?”    

“The worst place in the world.”

Theon sat up. “ _Where_?”

“This place where you aren’t.”

“Shut up,” Theon bit down on his lip, trying not to smile, but his face got warm and stomach fluttered just like a fucking schoolgirl. “That’s a great line.”

“Yeah, I know. So? Where’s he dragging you?”

Theon pinched the bridge of his nose, as though he could squeeze his need away. He tried to make his voice more apathetic and gruff, like Alyn’s. “Went in some trailer. Told me to wait in the truck.”

“Oh. Poor Alyn.”

“Poor Alyn _?_ ”

“He’s too softhearted.”

“Bullshit.”

“Be nice to him.”

“Trying.” Theon spoke more quietly, “He wants to fight me… or, maybe he thinks that I want that. What should I do?”

“Don’t fight him, you fucking idiot. Just be nice; that’s, like, the one thing you’re actually good at. Don’t try to be cool or whatever the fuck it is you’re doing. What the fuck are you doing, by the way?”

“Nothing.” Theon’s shoulders curled in defensively. “Oh, I think he’s coming maybe I should-”

“I don’t care if he’s sitting on your fucking lap. Don’t do that shit again.”

“I…” Theon wrapped himself up in the passenger seat, hugging his knees. He wanted to pretend he didn’t understand the accusation but the futility of exercising his will was suddenly unbearable. Theon wondered if he was sleepwalking with Ramsay or without him? The two worlds couldn’t occupy the same reality simultaneously. Alyn came out of the trailer carrying two large moving boxes. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you trying to be?”

“I don’t know. Just…” he found his nails digging into his calf. “Tougher, or something… I guess.”

“And what are you?”

“Yours.” Theon looked out at the clear grey sky. He felt his fires burnout. “Meek. Weak. Sweet.”

“Who are you?”

Theon shook his head and clenched his eyes until he saw stars. “Reek.”

“And who do you want to be?”

“ _Anyone else_.” Theon’s eyes snapped open and his stomach dropped. His dry mouth opened with nothing to offer. “I won’t do it again.” The warm little phone against his ear bore a stunning silenced that buzzed through him. “I’m sorry.” The tailgate closed and his free hand flew out to grip the dashboard. “Ramsay?”

Alyn opened the door and freezing wind burst in until he slammed it shut again. “Who you talking to? Fuckface?” Alyn grabbed his phone. Theon’s hand stayed suspended, cupping the air.

“Hey, shithead.” He glanced over at Theon, without a frown. “Fine. Yeah. Yeah. I got something you might want, or whatever. Mmm.” He looked over his shoulder and started backing out. “I know. Is it my money or not? I know, man.” He looked over at Theon and snorted. “No.” He threw his head back and slammed on the brake. “Oh fuck. Look…” He shoved the car into park and smacked Theon so hard his head hit the door. Alyn yanked him up by his hair and took a photo. “Better?” Alyn put the truck in drive and looked both ways before pulling onto the street. Theon could hear Ramsay laughing. “Good. _Oh fuck_! He’s crying. What should I do? STOP THAT! HEY!” Theon swallowed and looked up from the corner against the door he’d pushed himself into. “Take the god damn phone and let Ramsay fix your… shit going that’s going on with your face.”

Theon took the phone and sank. “I’m sorry.” He pulled his hair back and leaned into the window. “Reek. You do. I’m yours, Ramsay. Forever. I will. I’ll be good. I miss you too. No.”

Alyn sighed and rolled his eyes. He tried to feel around under the fold-down bucket seat behind him for his cigarettes.

“I know. I’m sorry. I won’t. I love you. I know.”

Alyn gritted his teeth then grabbed the phone again. “OKAY. Thanks for nothing shit for brains. No, fuck you.” Alyn hung up and smiled to himself. “Ok, pal?” He eyed Theon’s knee and trying to look friendly, he gave it a quick pat. “Feel better… champ?” Theon looked over at him with his dumb mouth hanging open, but his eyes had stopped leaking and he wasn’t making those nerve-racking sounds. “I stopped his volcano, get it? That’s what you have to do. Push him before he works himself up worse. Now he’s mad at me, anyway so… good, right?”

Theon smiled and rubbed at his eye with Ramsay’s jacket. “Thanks, Alyn. I’m glad you’re my friend.”

Alyn tapped his head. “Now shut up.”

 

“Ramsay?”

He looked up from his phone. “Hey, beautiful! Did you find the place alright?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s gorgeous! I can’t wait to see which is yours. I brought some friends, hope you don’t mind.”

He smiled warmly. “Great. I got way too much food and wine for the both of us.” He slipped his arm around her porcelain shoulders. “I’m watching my figure,” he confided. “You think it’s working?”

She tilted her head and smirked at him. “Wonderfully. After that lunch, I think we will need help with the food.”

“Hey, take a photo with me, or nobody will believe I had a date this hot.”

“Oh, honestly. I bet you say that to all girls.” She leaned in smiled coyly. Her sharp, penetrating eyes looking right into the camera.

 

Damon stretched his back, groaning and rubbed his face. “Wanna take a break?”

“Sure.” Loras jumped up. “Hey! Let me cook you something! Why don’t you relax for awhile?”

“Yeah.” Damon played with Loras’ springy curls. “I’m going to take a walk and clear my head. Lock all the doors and stay right,” Damon leaned down to look Loras in his bright blue dancing eyes, “ _here_.”

Loras dipped to one side and saluted. “Ok! Gotcha! But be back in, like, half and hour, ok? Promise? Promise?”

Damon nodded. “I’ll be within hearing distance if I’m late, just yell.”

He took his keys and stopped at the door before finally grabbing his phone as well.


	29. Travel Blind

Alyn was waiting in line when his phone started vibrating. _This fuckfest is just un-fucking-ending_. “What?”

“Hey. Were you able to get in?” Damon sounded so tired and far away.

“No shit.”

“ _Alyn_.”

“I think I got everything you wanted. I got the cds Ramsay gave her. Do you think he’d want them?” Alyn moved up in line and glanced out the store window at his truck. “Damon?”

“Yeah. That’s nice of you, -” a sound caught in Damon’s throat.

The wad of hundreds crumpled in Alyn’s hand. “I should go.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m next in line.”

“Everything’s ok then?”

“Yep.”

“Did Ramsay leave?”

“Last night.”

“Do you know where he’s going?”

“No.”

The person in front of him walked away from the lady popping gum behind desk. “NEXT.”

“Shit I have to go. Keep your boy close.” He hung up and stepped up with the money and store number scribbled on a napkin.

The lady looked down at his napkin and rolled her eyes up to him. “Uh, yeah, I’m gonna need some photo identification, sir.”

 

When Alyn got back in the truck, Theon jumped and looked around, disoriented. Alyn tossed his phone to Theon who scrambled to catch it. “Answer that.”

“Wha-what should I say?”

“Just tell her not to call that number anymore. Say that I can’t talk to her again and hang up.”

“Ok.”.

“Wait, also, tell her she can’t come back her and don’t try to call Damon.”

“Ok.” Theon answered the phone

“Hey, d’you send it? I can’t find my ID though. I think I left it in the car of this guy I met, Ricky, an’ he was sposed ta pick me up but he’s takin’ his cousin to the dollar general an’ she’s gonna buy him some swisher sweets, even though I told his ass I’d buy whatever shit he wanted, long as it was under ten dollars, ‘cause I already got that fucker gas an’ a cigarettes, so I ain’t spend’n more than ten dollars ‘less I start gettin’ mine, you know? But he was all sayin’ she’s tryin’ ta get some formula for her baby, ‘cause the daddy ain’t been by ta take her, so I don’t know when he’ll be comin’ back an’ I really need a code to get the money.”

“A code?”

“Fucking…” Alyn shifted in his seat and pulled the napkin from his pocket. “Here. _Here,_ goddamn it.”

“RQNA43VARX, _is that a ‘B’?”_

“Thirteen, dumbass.”

“Thirteen. That’s it.” Alyn shoved Theon’s arm impatiently. “AND DON’T CALL ALYN AGAIN!”

“Don’t yell at her.” Alyn shook his head, raising his eyebrow as if Theon should know better.

“He can’t talk you anymore.” Alyn gave him a thumbs-up, which he pushed higher into the air. “Ever. So just lose this number, don’t come back around here and don’t call Damon.” Theon hung up and shrugged with an uneasy wince. “How was that?”

“Thanks.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alyn rolled his head over to look at Theon as though he’d just told a bad joke. “Or not. That’s cool too.” Theon sighed and looked around the truck. “Would you want to listen to the radio or something?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Theon leaned against his icy cold window. The black skeletons of sharp trees swayed and whistled in the wind.

“There’s cds in the glove box.”

Theon glanced over then opened the glove box, which fell and shook on its hinges. “Hey!” Theon grinned. “You have some awesome albums here! You like Industrial and Heavy Metal? That’s so cool.”

Alyn’s eyes narrowed.

“Skinny Puppy! What the fuck? You have really good taste!”

“I just buy the cds I want to listen to.”

“Yeah,” Theon nodded slowly while sliding the cd into Alyn's head unit, "that’s… a good plan. I love this album. Do you like Ministry?”

“You can stop talking.”

“What?”

“You like that album you're playing so you can shut up and listen to it now.”

Theon tapped his thumb on the cd case then slid it back into the glove box. “Why did you want me to come?” He had to slam the compartment door a few times before it would latch.

“I can’t leave you alone.”

“But Jeyne’s there.” Theon’s phone vibrated. Ramsay was trying to send him obscene messages through emojis. He smiled and turned his phone’s camera on. “SMILE, ALYN!”

 

Ramsay recieved a photo of Reek with a huge grin and trying to put his arm around Alyn, who looked like a cat about to fall in a bathtub. He bit down on the inside of his cheek and pursed his lips.

“What?” rolled from Maergery’s quirked smile. “Turn on the bubbles and come tell me what’s so funny.” Her friends giggled, smiling at him and whispering to each other.

“Of course.” He rose from the couch he was lounging on. “More wine?”

“You’ve hardly had any, dear,” she purred tilting her head. Her eyes tracked him wherever he moved though she pretended to be cheerfully oblivious. She leaned against the hot tub’s rim and sighed contently as he approached. Her eyes darted from his eyes to his mouth shoulders and hands, then back to his eyes. He put on his favorite smile, shy and fighting to contain itself. It was easy to mimick, he kept it close. His eyes may have even dilated thinking about Reek trying not to laugh at something horrible because her eyebrows parted slightly as her brow relaxed and she drank the wine he offered instead of demurring.

“I can’t drink too much, I’m afraid,” he pouted with Alyn’s childish bitterness. “I have to get up early and meet with some of my father’s lawyers.”

“Oh?” She leaned in slightly as he climbed in next to her. “Nothing bad I hope?”

“No, no. Just acquisitions changes to the estate…”

 

His favorite game with his mom was sitting on her lap and being her mirror. She’d make a mad face and he’d copy it, she’d make a sad face, and he’d copy it, and so on until one of them lost by giggling. Usually he won, but sometimes he fell into her chest laughing and her arms would wrap around him. He could her love for him deep in her chest.

 

He made his blank, dumbly innocent face as he dropped his breadcrumbs. Maergery was clever, graceful, and beautiful but Ramsay always wins and he was a much better actor.

 

“Damon!”

He was leaning against a tree. He looked up towards the cabin and put his phone in his back pocket.

 

Damon locked the door behind him and took off his boots. “Smells, good.”

“Thanks!”

Damon enjoyed walking into a clean, warm space of his own that smelled delicious and where someone beautiful was happy to see him.

“Ta da!”

“Aw, Loras. Candles?” Damon smirked.

“Hey! What if this was one of those rich people tables and I was all the way down here like, ‘PASS THE PEPPER!’ and you’d be like, ‘YOU DIDN’T SERVE ANY PEPPERS!’ and I’d be like, ‘THE PEPPER! THE PEPPER! Never mind. DID YOU FIND THE PLACE OK?’” Damon tried to smile. He sat down at the table but in his mind he was still walking through the forest. “Salmon?” Loras beamed at him and laid down an artfully arranged plate.

“This looks great.” Loras poured him a glass of Riesling. “Nice choice.”

“Really?” Loras practically vibrated shoving the food in mouth happily. “Oh man, I was nervous because you really know what you’re doing.”

“It’s excellent. Especially with the crisp honey glaze and bit of lemon; the Riesling was a perfect compliment. I appreciate the care and skill it took to make this.” Damon raised his glass. A smile peaked under his dark and tired eyes. “Cheers.”

“Well fuck yes!” Loras laughed and raised his glass as well. “Renly was the, um, eat-to-live type…” Loras stopped the words stumbled from his mouth and tried to turn the sentence around, “I… it’s nice to… when someone appreciates… I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry about last night,” he started. A lump caught in his throat. “Oh, shit, I’m ruining everything.”

“I promise you aren’t. Please don’t make that face; it breaks my heart,” Damon said so gently that tears came to Loras’ eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

Damon reeled with frustration but he wasn’t upset; he just needed to make it better. He felt in every way the bull running around lovely, pristine, and fragile china. He had to move so carefully, and that just wasn’t in his nature. “You don’t have to be sorry about your emotions,” Damon tried to explain. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I can’t… oh god, I don’t know what’s happening. _I can’t stop_.” Loras started panting like a victim in the basement. It occurred to Damon that the little bursts Loras had here or there were only holes in the dam, and now the dam was breaking. So he tried an old trick that had worked win Alyn almost hammered himself into the ground shaking with rage, or when Lysie collapsed weeping, overwhelmed by the harsh world he couldn’t protect her from. He wrapped Loras up in his arms and held him close until it passed.

When Loras had exhausted himself, Damon spoke calmly to him and pet his hair. “Tomorrow afternoon I’m scouting the hotel. Why don’t you stay here and get some rest?”

“That sounds good,” Loras whispered. “Maybe I should try to relax.”


	30. Collapsed on the Tracks

Theon must have been daydreaming for quite an hour or so because they were already going back up the mountain. He stretched and yawned.

"Did you sleep last night?"

"No. You?"

"Yeah. Sleep is good for you. Look how shitty you are now." Alyn flipped down Theon's visor so he could look in the vanity mirror and see what a wreck he was.

Theon looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

Alyn nodded. "I don't give a fuck how you look but you should try to sleep tonight. You don't want to start hearing dogs talk to you or whatever that shit is you do that you can't snap out of."

Theon nodded back and flipped the visor up into the roof. "Yep." He was probably relieved that Alyn remembered he couldn't snap out of it. It was good to show a friend that you listened to the annoying shit they said.

"So," Alyn sighed as Theon turned towards him, "how did you meet Ramsay?"

"Damon."

"Oh... right." Theon turned back and rested his crazy head on his fist. That wasn't so bad.

"You're pretty cool to hang out with."

"Really?" Theon smiled and that made Alyn feel good. 

***

"Damon?"

"I'm in the shower, kid."

"I know, I hear the water. Someone keeps pounding at the door. I'll stay with Lysie in Chantelle's room... or I can open it..."

"God damn it. Does he keep shouting for me?"

"Yeah."

"Is he swearing and making threats?"

"Yeah."

"Say I'm not here, but don't open the door. I'm getting out, ok?"

"Ok." Alyn went to the door and yelled through it. "I'M NOT HERE!"

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?" The pounding asshole yelled back, muffled by the door.

"ALYN."

"WHO THE FUCK IS ALYN?"

"ME."

 

"Damon?"

"What's up kid?"

"Ramsay!!" Lysie squealed across the trailer. 

"LYSIE! Don't let him in!"

"She did," Alyn informed him. "That's what I came to tell you."

"Shit!" Damon opened the door and pulled Alyn in the hot foggy bathroom. "Just stay in here until I make him go away," Damon whispered. His hair looked almost brown and it was starting to curl. Alyn wondered why it was so different wet than it was dry. His own hair was always the same, so was Lysie's even when he gave her a bath... "ALYN!" Damon grabbed his throat and whispered, "this is important."

"Why?"

"I don't want him to know you're here."

"I already told him."

Damon opened his mouth in a long oval and threw up his hands. The hair all over his chest and forearms was darker as well. Why was he so hairy and Alyn and Lysie weren't? Did it have something to do with the color-changing? There was a knock at Chantelle's door. Lysie giggled.

"Is he hiding innnnn... _here_?" the new voice asked in sing-song.

"Noooo!"

"Under the bed?"

Damon rubbed his temples and tightened the towel around his waist. He grabbed Alyn's shoulders and moved him back, into the shower stall. He put a finger to his lips, meaning that Alyn should be quiet, and shut the curtain.

"Hmm. Is heeee in this drawer?"

"Noooo, Ramsay!" Lysie giggled, just beside herself with the absurdity of his guess. "That's 'adicalous!"

The door opened and the light went off. The door shut and he was alone in the dark. "What?" Damon asked. "Lysie, come here."

"But, Diamond, I'm not ascared of Ramsay! He's my friend! He missed you!"

"One."

"Aw, you're so cruel, Damon."

"Put her down."

"Fine. If I get _one_ more hug." 

"Mua!"

"Thanks, Lyse."

Damon lowered his voice. "Go watch your show." Alyn heard Lysie skipping down the hall and jumping on the couch. "What? What couldn't wait five fucking minutes?"

"Who's Alan?"

Damon steps thudded into his room. Alyn carefully moved the curtain slowly enough not to make a sound then sat on the counter with his ear to wall, right next to the outlet, where it was thinnest.

"I don't want you to fuck with him, ok? That's why I didn't tell you... what the fuck did you do? Tap my phone or some shit?" Damon slammed a drawer and Alyn's stomach twisted. What did he do? What did this guy want with him?

"You left Lysie in the trailer yesterday, which is fucking falling apart by the way, and I know Chantelle wasn't here because that coffee can she uses for an ashtray was empty. Only you empty it and she only has to be here five minutes for it to be full again. So who is the hell is Alan," the sharp voice kept rising like Chantelle's did when she was about to throw something, "and why is he watching my little sunshine, and why the _fuck_ are you hiding shit from me? Who is he? Are you fucking him?"

Alyn jumped back from the wall. Usually when people said that, they meant that naked wrestling Daryl did to Chantelle on the brown couch. That was a horrible night. If Damon did that to Alyn, he was pretty sure he'd die. Alyn treaded carefully with exact steps into curling himself in the cabinet under the sink. They always look in the shower, he knew that much.

"Is he a cousin? Her brother? _Your new fucking best friend_?" Someone slammed into the wall in Damon's room then someone bumped into the bathroom door. 

"NO FIGHTING!" Lysie yelled.

"Don't!" Damon grunted and clothes rubbed against the door. "Just leave him alone!" Alyn's fingers slid under his head as his neck strained to free the only objects he could grab.

The door burst open and the frame of the cabinet door glowed with the bathroom's yellow light. He heard the curtain tear open. "Alyn?" Damon called above him. " _Shut up_!"

"I didn't say anything, cumm dumpster."

"You scared him."

"Damon... did you make up a friend?" The voice laughed.

" _Shut. Up._ " Damon whispered. "Alyn?" Damon's voice went down the hall. "Come here."

The light didn't go off, but suddenly a shadow overtook the door frame. Alyn was ready to defend his home. The door opened and a boy smiled at him, his head titled. "Hello. Don't you look sweet?"

Alyn said nothing and attacked his crystal eyes with Chantelle's White Rain hairspray.

He grunted and covered his face with both hands, falling back against the wall. Alyn crawled out, popped up and swung the hairdryer as hard as he could against the boy's head. The boy fell over growling and Alyn ran out to the front room.

"Hey," Damon turned around. He was wearing jeans now. Alyn swooped Lysie off the couch and ran out the door with her in his arms. "NO!"

Damon was coming up behind him. He cradled Lysie's head as he jumped off the porch and headed for the car he didn't recognize. He stopped at it and handed Lysie over. "Take her and I'll remove his-"

"No, Alyn." Damon took Lysie and sighed. 

"No?"

"Woooaaa, I'm dizzy! Alyn you took crazy pills this morning!"

"I did not. Why would I take pills to make me crazy?"

Damon laid a heavy hand on Alyn's shoulder and smiled with one side of his mouth. "It's okay, kid. Come back inside." The boy stumbled and coughed out onto their little porch, rubbing his eyes and Damon started laughing harder than Alyn thought he could.

 

"Alan."

Ramsay had come over when Damon was out and insisted on laying on the couch and watching a movie with Lysie until he came back. Damon said to call and be nice to him if he ever came back, so Alyn didn't punch him in the face when he threw a wadded up napkin at the back of his head.

"Alan."

"It's not Al-an it's Al-lyn," he corrected through gritted teeth.

"Alyn." Ramsay threw one of Lysie's pink toy ponies at him. "Alyn. ALYN."

"WHAT?"

"Get me a drink."

Alyn looked up at the clock he was fixing for Ms. Rita. "Why?" 

"Because I'm thirsty, retard."

"Oh! Ramsay! Oh! Diamond doesn't like that!" Lysie's curly head pipped from the crook of his asshole arm.

Alyn liked her soft hair on his chest. She nuzzled against him as though he was a good place to be for a little person like her. Even when she didn't stop talking about nonsense or singing non-sequiturs that didn't even rhyme, he still liked her near him.

"I know, sunshine. Am I a bad person?"

"No! I love you THIS much!"

Alyn groaned and stood up. "Are you getting me a drink?" The asshole asked. 

"No. Look, my hands are full. Get it yourself if you're thirsty."

"But we're comfy, aren't we Lysie?"

"Yep! Snug as bugs in rugs. Yep. I can get it Ramsay, only I need help to pour it if you want jooz 'acause it's new and full and so heavy and I say 'woa woa woa' ... like that!"

"No! Don't leave me! I'll be so lonely." Ramsay snuggled Lysie who closed her eyes happily. "Let's make Al-an do it," he whispered conspiratorially, too dense to realize that Alyn could still hear him. Ramsay picked an empty coke can off the floor. "Here, r-word, get me one of these." He threw the can at Alyn, who avoided it with slight twist of his torso.

 "Ramsay, I have decided that if you throw one more object at me, I'm going to break your fucking nose. I'm not getting you shit to drink. I don't like you because you're annoying and I want you to leave."

Ramsay sat up and put Lysie on cushion beside him. "Oh? Is that right?"

 

 


	31. It Never Goes Out

Alyn set down the clock and tools back down on Damon's little kitchen table. Ramsay's eyes danced as a smile slowly split face. His eyebrows hopped up higher on his forehead and he reached for a coaster on the scratchy wicker coffee table beside him.

"Ramsay, please be nice. Please!"

"It's just a game."

"You're happy but Alyn is fusterated. See? See? He doesn't like it. See?"

Ramsay tilted his head and pulled her back onto his lap holding her little torso with both hands. He looked into her eyes and his seemed to glow. "Am I still your favorite friend?"

"Always! Always!" She dove into Ramsay and wrapped her pink arms around his neck.

Alyn felt as though he'd fallen through the floor.

He walked down the hall trying to etch in his mind how soft carpet felt on his feet and how refreshing the arctic blast from the window unit was now that he had running perfectly. He'd been pretending he belonged in this place with the real humans but he was no liar, so he slipped out the back and walked barefoot towards the woods. It was warm so he headed downhill towards the creek.

 

On a smooth, dusty bed of river rock, he sat to drop his feet in the rushing water. He'd hidden an army green metal lunch bucket about half an hour uphill from here, in a hollow oak tree stump in a little clearing. He'd head for it soon, but wanted to be still here a moment. It was nice to feel the cold water rush around his feet and hear nothing but the rapid's soothing static. He watched a neon green dragonfly dip in zigzags towards a pool of water below him. The bank was still pebbly down there. He wondered if the creek had once been a river which shrank, realizing it would never really join the sea.

A school of small mouth bass made a lazy carousal in the placid pool below. Above them, the dragonfly he'd been watching chased a metallic blue one half its size. He wondered why. The the fish scattered, flying away in one quick snap. Alyn peered over his shoulder, then looked all around as he slowly rose. The blotchy shadow of the hill's horizon suddenly broken open as bushes were pushed apart. Great circles of sunlight broke through the trunks and leaves.

He didn't want to leave wet footprints on the creek's boulders or tracks on the mud, so he tried to cross through the creek sliding the soles of his feet nimbly along the quick, uncertain bottom. Alyn's ankles strained to keep him upright as his feet slid this way, then that, on shaking rocks, or sank inches into the soft clay bottom. A little more than half way across a rock loosened under his weight and slipped away with the current. He scrambled to find footing and his left foot slid between two rocks while he struggled not to fall backwards and snap his ankle.

With patient persistence, he made it without hurting himself very much, and ducked behind a thick blackberry bush to rest. When he felt sure he was alone, Alyn crawled uphill and waited behind a billowing purple beech tree in silence. Away from the rapids, he was able to hear snaps of twigs and branches. 

"Alllll-lynnn!" Lysie called out.

There was a hiss and deep, unhinged giggle.  

Alyn frowned. He did not expect this. Using a leafy stick to help shield his face, he gritted his teeth and slowly stood to peer between two branches. Lysie was riding Ramsay's shoulders. They were whispering to one another and smiling. "What the fuck?" he muttered.

Ramsay came to the bed of river rock Alyn had fled from. "Look, Lyse! What's that?"

"Foot prince!"

"Ding ding!"

"Ding ding!" She laughed and clapped.

"You get a cookie!" He took an bag of animal crackers out of his pocket and popped one into her mouth. "I think he's over there, since his tracks disappear into the water."

Lysie gasped. "What if he fell?! Too fast! No, no, Diamond says the creek is to fast in spring and the rocks are sharp and there's a big drop. I don't like it, Ramsay. Get him! Make him stop, _please_."

"I would get him, sunshine, but I can't leave you alone. What should we do?" Ramsay asked with the tone of a dopey clown. The stick Alyn was holding snapped in his fist. "Hey, Elise, did you know before there were things like microphones and speakers people would build stages very low, just like this, and build seats going high up at an angle, just like that hill, so that the audience could hear the actors?"

"I didn't know that," she said with a wobbily voice.

Alyn closed his eyes and sank, with his back to the tree, to sitting on a root.

"Don't be sad, Lyse. Hey! I bet he can hear us, don't you?"

"I hope! I hope!" Alyn rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. _Leave me alone_. 

"Ready to cross the creek?" Alyn dropped his arms.  _What?_

Lysie giggled. "Ok! Ready!"

"Hold on real tight, ok? Where should I jump first?"

"That one! The big one!"

"STOP!" Alyn sprang up and ran down. "DON'T YOU FUCKING MANIAC!"

Ramsay was sitting cross-legged with Lysie in his lap. "Oh! There he is! Lysie, what was that? Tell him!"

Lysie jumped up and made little jazz hands. "ACTING!" She and Ramsay shot their arms out in sink with each tilting their torsos, like black and white tap dancers. Ramsay squeezed Lysie to his chest and fell on his back laughing. 

"Ding ding!"

"Ding ding!"

"Here's a cookie. Jesus Christ, dude! Look at you! You really are fucking feral!"

"Jebus Cripes!" Lysie threw her arms up too. Then she wrestled Ramsay's arms to sit up on his stomach. "But for really real you have to come home now! There are bears and lions and there might be quicksand and Diamond will yell and yell if you aren't home."

"Aw," Ramsay sat up and strained to make out Alyn's face, "Diamond yells and yells at you? How does that make you feel?"

 

"Fuck you, asshole." Alyn's shoulders dropped and he started hiking up the hill.

"Alyn! Please! No! Oh, no! Don't go!"

"Don't go, man. I'm annoying, you're feral, and poor Lysie just wants to go home. Are you really going to make Lysie cry?" Ramsay held her up by her waist. "Look at this! Just _look_ at her little face!"

"But... don't you want me to leave your friends alone?" Alyn asked, bewildered.

"Aw, come on, grumpy. I don't want you to go," he said bouncing Lysie on his knee. She squealed, throwing her hands up each time she dropped.

"Really?"

 

"Stay right here and keep this tree up for me, alright?" Ramsay whispered and rubbed Lysie's back. He walked back down to the creek and stopped to give her an OK sign. "Ready?"

" _I'm fine_ ," Alyn growled. He hopped to the closest boulder. 

"Watch out for the slimy ones. If it's green, its slippery."

 "I know this creek," Alyn snapped, balancing on a wobbly rock.

"But, the water is high and fast..."

" _Shut up._ "

When Alyn was three feet away, he ran out of boulders to jump to. "Here," Ramsay extended his hand. Alyn took a chance by grabbing it, because fuck it.

 

He was pretty exhausted by the time they reached the park. Ramsay and Lysie were singing about a hole in a lake; and a bunch of nonsense.

"Diamond!"

Ramsay lowered Lysie off his shoulders and she went running to Damon. Alyn chewed the inside of his lip and followed her. Damon was speaking seriously to Lysie in a low voice when a pine cone hit Alyn in the back of the head.

Alyn spun around and charged for Ramsay when Damon yelled his name. He stopped and Ramsay bit into his lip trying so hard not to laugh, his eyes were watery.

" _You giddy psycho cunt_." Alyn ran and punched Ramsay in the nose as he had promised. He is not a liar. Ramsay wrestled him to the dirt. They kicked, kneed and punched each other until Damon had him up in the air. 

Ramsay grinned and waved while Damon took him away and called, "See you later, buddy!"

 

Alyn grunted and rubbed his eyes.

"Almost done. Stay still."

"Can you give me a washcloth to bite?"

"Just two more pokes, kid. You understand what you did wrong?"

" _Yes._ I already said it three times." His jaw ached and his eyes burned. He hated feeling these different things. It would be simpler to leave, but if no one wanted him to stay, that would make him feel so cold. Maybe he could be like the creek; cold, fast, always moving. He sniffled and wiped his nose on his arm.

"Good job. I'm just making a knot now." Damon sighed and leaned on the bathroom counter. The marble-looking plastic was yellowing in some corners and curling up in others. "Alyn... I'm sorry."

Alyn furrowed his brow and looked up at Damon's dropped head. "What?"

Damon shook his head. "I... you're just a fucking fucked up kid. You cannot just go out into that world alone. It will destroy you. They'll ruin you." Damon looked over at him. "You're a good person with a lot special things to offer. You scared the fucking _shit_ out of me."

Damon's head dropped below his shoulders and he put a hand to his chest. "I'm still terrified. You can not do that. _You can't fucking do that_." Damon stood and started packing up his first aid kit. "I know I was too hard on you, and I am sorry for that, but I need you to remember you can't runaway. Do you understand?"

Alyn shifted and looked away. His face felt hot. " _Yes_!"

"Come on," Damon said softly. 

"No! You already cut me open!"

"Now."

"But-" Alyn struggled when Damon picked him up, but he couldn't fight for long. Every twist of his stomach, arms or shoulders seemed to shred his back. "Not tonight!"

"Yes, tonight," Damon rumbled next to his ear. He felt the low reverberations in Damon's chest on his stomach. 

"Why? Because you couldn't make me cry with your whip? _You hate me_!" 

"I love you, kid."

Alyn cried while Damon smothered him, hot and angry, and then he broke and wept for everything that overwhelmed him. Damon pet his head.

 

Alyn woke up in the dark on his stomach. Damon was pulling a blanket up to Alyn's shoulders while ghosts of strange figures danced in the grain of the wood paneling. The trailer was quiet except for Lysie's princess movie playing in the other room. "Damon?"

"What?"

"Is Ramsay my friend?"

"Yeah, he told me so."

"Well... is Lysie?"

"Of course. She loves you just as much as any little sister."

"Oh." Alyn pulled the sheet up to his eyes. " _Are you_?" he whispered.

"What?"

"Are you my friend?"

"I'm your big brother. That's why I take care of you and that won't change either, because we're family. We all belong to each other." The mattress ballooned up under Alyn when Damon laid beside him. He yawned like a bear. "You understand?"

"Mmm, okay." In the dark, Alyn smiled.


	32. A Star in Somebody Else's Sky

"ALYN!"

He wiped the sweat from his brow with his flannel sleeve and stood up. "Yeah?"

"Get the fucking door, retard!"

"I'm outside, Chantelle. See?" He motioned towards his black knees and dirty gloves. "I'm pulling poison oak, remember? Lysie-"

"Yeah, yeah, you're always doin' something in MY fucking trailer."

"Damon pays for it."

Chantelle pressed her face into the window screen. The tiny black grid pushed her nose back so she looked like a pig. "YOU'RE SO FUCK'N SMART? THAN YOU CAN OPEN A GOD DAMN DOOR!" Ramsay rounded the corner of the trailer with his hands in the pockets of his new, clean, tailored jeans.  His grey eyes darted to the window with some amusement. Chantelle slammed it shut, seeing him.

Ramsay looked down, smirking. He idly kicked at Alyn's pile of weeds and ran his tongue over his teeth.

"Damon took Lysie to the hospital." Alyn pressed his lips together like a friendly farewell, and got back on his knees to finish the west side of the trailer.

"I know."

"What? Is she dead?" Alyn tore out a thick shoot and watched the dirt and chips fall from its sprawling roots. 

"No. Not yet." Ramsay leaned against the trailer and pulled out a menthol. "Poor kid." He watched three girls in pajama pants and sports bras fight on the steps to a neighboring trailer. The short loud one keep bobbing her head as she yelled.

Alyn looked at her and then at Ramsay, and couldn't understand the fascination. "Did you need something?"

Ramsay took a drag and his eyes slid over to Alyn as narrow daggers. Then he saw something else invisible, maybe, and smiled. "Yeah." His face relaxed and he pushed against the trailer's vinyl siding, which popped and dented behind him. 

"Hey! That took me forever to install, shitstain!"

Ramsay raised an eyebrow. "Why do you bother?"

"Because."

"Why?"

"I don't want this place to fall apart." 

"Pfft." Ramsay took another drag and blew the smoke his way. "That's hopeless. You should just live with me."

Alyn frowned, confused. "What did you need?"

"I'm bored."

Alyn looked at him for a clue, "Do you need me to fix your bike or..."

"Come hang out with me."

"Hang out?"

 

"It's still my turn!" Dick shouted. 

"But I can fix it."

"I didn't get anything, spaz!"

Alyn gritted his teeth and spoke in halting syllables through them. "That's because the tube has come-"

"DUH THAT BA-CAUSE DURRRR. Get the fuck out of here, reject."

"Alyn!" Ramsay popped up from the couch with disheveled hair and a red mouth as Alyn headed for the stairs. He yelled over the guns Skinner and Damon fired on the smallest of his three enormous HD televisions. "Where the fuck are you going?"

"Your friend told me to leave."

Damon looked over his shoulder. "What's that, kid?"

"I got it, I got it." Thin, dark arms fell away from Ramsay's neck as he jumped up. He hurried to Alyn and looked him over. "So... what? You're just going to wait in the car for Damon? Who told you to leave?"

"I don't know." Ramsay got uncomfortably close and looked at him in a way he didn't like. "The one who brought that shit for you. I just tried to fix his bong."

"Well, that's why we call him 'Dick' because he is one. Why didn't you tell him to fuck off?"

Alyn shook his head. "He's your friend and it's your house."

Ramsay's face blossomed in a sunrise smile. "But you're my family, you're more important than he is." Ramsay looked back towards the room which had always been spare down the hall. "You can walk around the dark, empty house all alone if you really want or, if he bothers you again, you can just fuck him up." He glanced at the couch where the dark arm hung, immobile, and bit his lip like he was hungry. "If you have trouble, come get me. Just don't fucking leave".

Alyn stood in the hall, surprised that he was important.

 

"Alyn. Owl-lyn. Owlyn. Owlyn. Owlyn. Owlyn." Ramsay kicked his ribs a little each time he called his name.  

"WHAT?"

"Aren't you done yet?"

"No." Alyn looked at Ramsay incredulously. "You need new fan belt first and three more fuses. Then she should be fine."

"He."

Alyn gripped his head with his torn up, gritty hands. "I thought it was a big deal that all your cars were girls!"

"Yeah, but _he's_ a truck. He was my first vehicle, Blood." Ramsay looked the black truck over with some detached fondness.

"Great, except cars don't have ears or brains so they can't answer to or recognize a name. It's pointless. You're fucking crazy." Ramsay laughed and Alyn nodded. "Yeah, like that." He went to wash his hands with black and green soap. When he turned to dry them, Mr. Bolton had appeared in the doorway like a phantom.

"Ramsay," he uttered coldly.

Ramsay was leaning his elbows on the tool bench but slowly stood up. "What?"

"I'm not amused with you or your games." He spoke softly, without moving, and the air seemed to hum. 

"What?" Ramsay repeated, his voice rising. Mr. Bolton's long, sallow face housed piercing eyes with all of Ramsay's intensity and no expression to distract from them. They stood frozen in silence until Ramsay shook his head and his hands flew out from his sides. "What? What did I do?"

Mr. Bolton took one step from the hallway into the garage. Ramsay's chest started pumping and his muscles became more rigid. There was a dark fury in his face, but he stayed frozen where he stood. "What were you looking for?"

Pliers fell on the cement floor. "Oh." Alyn muttered. "I'm sorry."

Mr. Bolton looked at Alyn as though a plant had just spoken. "Sorry?"

"Your safe..." he saw Ramsay spin his his periphery but kept looking Mr. Bolton in his burning frost eyes. "I didn't look at anything. I only wanted to see if I could unlock it. I didn't even open it. I was just... are you going to tell Damon?"

Mr. Bolton's thin mouth was widened slightly by a nearly imperceptible smile. "I'll have something to tell Damon about you. Ramsay, take care of this," he turned to leave.

" _No_!"

Mr. Bolton stopped and his eyes slid over to his son. "What?"

"He's extremely useful. He can fix or hack any kind of machine. He can break into just about anywhere. He didn't cause a problem, he auditioned."

Mr. Bolton looked Ramsay up and down. "Auditioned?"

"Three times. He broke into your safe, he didn't touch what was in there, and he came forward about it because he's stupidly loyal and honest. It would be useful to have a loyal, private mechanic, don't you think? Isn't that a person I should want under my thumb?" He looked back at Alyn and smiled, looking strangely tired for once, "and here I am, doing him an enormous favor."

"He doesn't even understand."

Ramsay whipped around. "Another asset for help."

"You're still constructing your plan and he fits into it? Then you'll go to that reform school, whatever term they're using for it, so you can come out clean on the other side. Isn't that right?" Ramsay was silent. "Is that correct? Or are you just becoming soft and useless, like your mother?"

"Of course that's right, _Father,"_ Ramsay growled. "I'm only looking things logically."

 

"Oh," Alyn had almost left without remembering, "Happy birthday."

"Oh, don't fucking bullshit me. So? You love the campus, how do you like my dorm? Try not to sit in pussy juice," Ramsay said from his desk, typing away at his laptop. 

"Pussy... what?"

"Don't worry about it," he giggled. The outline of his head glowed from the screen in front of him. "It's everywhere though."

Alyn stepped away from beanbag by his feet."Damon told me to say it."

"I know but don't bullshit me. I think I'm the only person, ha ha, you don't have to try to act like a person around."

Alyn looked at the bunk bed but didn't feel comfortable going near it, so he took a step towards the door. Ramsay always gets sulky when you leave, and sometimes sulky turns into crazy pretty quickly. "Are you like me or the opposite?" he asked, almost of himself.

"Both, ha ha. Hey,when the fuck is _your_ birthday?" Ramsay leaned back in his chair and looked up and back at Alyn. "WOW! Is that a smile? The fuck is happening?"

"I thought you would hate me."

Ramsay laughed and sat up with his back to Alyn again. "I'm going to throw you a big birthday party and you're going to be so miserable. Oh man, it's gonna be fucking hilarious! Then we'll be even, ok?"

"Uh..." Alyn tried to open the window but it was nailed shut. 

"Anti-suicide," Ramsay babbled to his computer.

"I need to get some air, man. Later." Before Alyn reached Ramsay's door something metal and sharp bounced of the back of his head. He spun and felt for blood, but he was unhurt. There were keys at his feet. "Learn to drive so you don't have to wait on Damon to come see me." Ramsay said without turning around. He leaned his head into one hand and tapped the desk with his other. "He doesn't want to leave Elyse overnight so... get your licence and come with cigarettes."

 

"Hey, bitch tits, what are you wearing?"

"Ramsay? It's Alyn."

"Sounds hot."

Alyn groaned and rested his head on his steering wheel. "Never mind."

"Just come over."

"Well... Chantelle went batshit and-"

"I know. Damon called me. You know the codes, fuck face, just come over with your sad little knapsack. If I'm not here, you can let yourself in. You don't have to call."

"Um, well, do you need me to do any work?"

There was a pause on the other end. "Actually, yeah. I'll wait for you to get here. Hurry up."

 

"Do you have to buy such tacky shit?" Ramsay sank, dramatically into a rack of jeans. 

"I like Harleys and I like eagles."

"Blah. It's not like you're looking to get laid so I guess you can wear whatever you want. That's kind of cool."

Alyn felt cold grip his chest but Ramsay was so indifferent he wasn't even looking in Alyn's direction. He was just watching some people walk by. Alyn felt a weight dissolve around him. "Damon thinks I should... date... females."

"Damon let's the world tell him what should be and sometimes he misses what is."

"He doesn't talk to me the way he did before."

"You're all growed up, and he likes control about as much as he hates change. I'm glad you're working with me. I feel safer with you around. No! Alyn! A fucking wolf shirt?"

"I like it."

"Ugh, fine it's your life. Im glad I have cash I don't want that shit on my credit report."

***

They were almost home when Theon's hands started trembling. "Alyn?"

"Hmm?"

"What would you do if you were me?"

"Eat more and sleep at night."

"No, I mean, if Loras was your friend?"

"He's not."

"But, if he was..."

"No. I have enough friends."

Theon wrapped Ramsay's jacket more tightly around his chest and looked back out his window.

"I can't betray Ramsay," Alyn said to the windshield. "I'm not a liar either, so maybe think about what you tell me."

"Oh," Theon sighed."Ok."


	33. Doomed from the Start

What if Ramsay had found someone else? He could be bored with his broken toy by now. Maybe he’d forget about Reek and let Theon be. Maybe Roose would tell them all to leave his house. Where could they go? He could work at a bar at night and write during the day, and she could work at a pediatrician's. They could move to the West Coast; somewhere cloudy and mild where people don’t shove and yell at each other when they’re happy and go silent right before they pull their weapons. He imagined saying warm, friendly things to new, artistic, friends without being ironic. Friends who did nothing harder than pot and liked to go museums and coffee shops. He and Jeyne could get a cat... or maybe a good guard dog. They could have a studio apartment by a cool, windy beach.

“Aren’t you going to answer your phone?”

“Huh?” Theon woke up from his reverie, and for a moment he was confused again.“Where are we going?”

“Home.” Alyn frowned. “Answer your phone.”

Theon looked at Ramsay’s face on the screen and hit the power button. He twisted to put the phone in his back pocket.

Alyn huffed and shook his head.

“I don’t know what to do yet,” Theon muttered towards his window. “I just need to figure out what to say.” But he was so tired and slipped easily into his dream again.

 

When they pulled into the garage Theon didn’t even think about the gate closing down the private road behind them. Alyn hadn’t yet put his truck in park before Theon jumped out. He tossed Ramsay’s jacket in the closet and slammed the door. He had an impulse to burn it but tried to shake the idea out of his head as he slid his hands into his warm pockets. He couldn’t do anything with anger, it only made him want to break away from here.

 

Jeyne was sitting at the dinner table eating oysters of a plate of horderves.  She grinned with a soft light as soon as she saw him and he grew a little taller. A half empty martini sat on the table. Theon licked his lips.“Hey,” he said casually and slid into the seat beside her. “What’s all this?”

She popped up and he followed her to the kitchen. “Let’s test your blood sugar.”

“It’s fine. I could use a drink. What vodka did you use? There’s never any rum here.”

‘Theon!”

“Yeah?” He leaned out from the open cabinet door with his old winning smile. He was shining again.

“You can’t drink!”

“Sure I can! I’ll show you how good I do it.”

“No,” her voice was firm but her eyes were pleading. “First of all,”

“Don’t. I don’t need a list. Let’s just-”

“You are on two different medications that contain a form a sedative and both specifically state that they are not to be mixed with alcohol.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Secondly, you are prediabetic and prone to hypoglycemia. You want to drink your blood sugar up to a spike and let it drop with no fiber or protein in exchange? Haven’t you met with a nutritionist?”

“I think so.” She tried to pull the bottle away from him but he pulled it back. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to get drunk. Just one drink and I could read to you the poetry I see in your eyes.” He leaned on the counter and winked at her.

She pulled the bottle back harder. He gripped it with his other hand. “Thirdly, you have a serious history of depression and addiction. Alcohol is an addictive depressant.”

His throat tightened and his light dimmed. “I am not depressed. Watch a movie with me. Let’s relax! Look,” he pulled the bottle enough to make her stumble forward but she wouldn’t let go, “I’ll put this back and get a beer then. Ok?”

“Lastly,”

“Oh my god.”

“... you come from a long line of alcoholics. You should not drink, Theon.”

“I’m just supposed to watch you drink?” He shrugged with a strained laugh. “Come on, you're kidding, right?”

“That’s not mine.”

“Right. Ok. Let go. I’ll put it back.”

“I need you to let go please.”

The smile slid off his face. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m fucking crazy.”

“Theon, you’re getting upset. I would feel more comfortable if you let go off the bottle. If I feel threatened I will get help.”

“Threatened?” Theon threw his hands up at last. “Take the fucking bottle! You don’t even…” he found he was getting upset. He couldn’t catch his breath. He wanted to tear something apart. He took a step back and walked away.

“Theon?” Her light footsteps padded up behind him. He raised a hand over his shoulder. Alyn was coming from the garage when he started up the stairs. Theon stopped when he heard a crash. He twisted around to see Jeyne on the floor under Alyn.

“Watch where you’re going.” He looked up at Theon. “You should answer your phone.” He stared for a moment and they all seemed frozen. Then Alyn walked off towards the kitchen as though nothing had happened.

Theon jumped down and knelt by Jeyne who seemed a little shocked. “What… are you ok?”

“I tried to grab the table. I hope I didn’t break anything.” She sat up slowly and felt the back of her head.

“What? Your wrist?”

“No,” she smirked. “I meant something on the table. I’m alright.”

“Did he just…”

“He’s, like, made of concrete,” Jeyne laughed, a bit shaky.

“That would explain the personality,” he whispered. Jeyne giggled. Theon smiled. He took her arm and helped her to stand.

“Will you test yourself now and come eat? Do I need a linebacker to tackle me for that to happen or what?”

“I ate on the way here. I feel fine, I promise. Let me help you to the couch. Are you dizzy?”

“Ramsay said-”

“Shhh, let’s not talk about people who aren’t here. It’s so rude.” He wrapped an arm around her and squinted his eyes in a silent laugh.

“Get your monitor, please.” She slipped away from him and crossed her arms.

“What?!” He threw his arms up laughing. “Alright, alright. I’ll stab myself for you if that’s the kind of commitment you want this early.” She walked back to the kitchen and he hurried to keep pace with her. He leaned over to see if he could make her smile. “Jeyne. Jeyne. Jeyne.”

“What?” She bit her bottom lip.

He slid in front of her and leaned down. “What do I get?”

“Ugh!” Her face crinkled in disgust but her smile broke through the mask. “Are you seriously fucking hitting on me?”

“Nooooooo.” He shrugged. “Pfft. Of course not.”

“I mean… are you…”

“What?” He took her wrists in both hands. “In love with you? Oh, I don’t know, angel face. Don’t tie me down. You’re so fucking all over me.” He left her and walked to the kitchen, light as air. “One step at a time, please. You don’t want to seem desperate.”

 

“You must be really close to Ramsay,” Jeyne said sweetly resting her chin in one hand.

Theon rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, why?”

“You sound like him when you’re happy.”

He gritted his teeth and pushed his lips together. “Hmm.” He pulled out the little black case  from the medicine cabinet and opened it on the counter with a zip. “Oh god. You do it. I hate needles.” He slid the open case towards her.

Jeyne smirked and glanced up at him cooly. “How do you do this three times a day if you’re such a baby about it?”

“Well, there’s the trick to that:”

“Uh huh?”

“I don’t.” He winked at her and nudged her shoulder. “Works everytime.”

“Ramsay does it for you?” She giggled.

He covered his face and frowned under his hands. “Rude. Just tell me when it's over.”

“Give me your finger.”

“Yeah? Then what?”

“You know I’m gay, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Me too.” Her smooth petal skin touched his right hand so lightly. He let her pull it towards her warmth. “Let’s be gay together.” Her hand slipped under his, holding it. “Ow!” He jumped up and stuck the tip of his poor finger in his mouth.

“No! Don’t suck on it!”

“First time I heard that- ow! Don’t hit me! No one else hit me today!”

“Well! Give me your finger or we’ll have to do it all over again!”

“Ugh,” he covered his eyes and flung his wounded finger her way, “ok, do it! Do it!” Jeyne giggled. “Is it over?”

“No, I have to squeeze some blood out.”

“Ohhh, Jaysus.” He swooned a little and she laughed more. “Oh, Saint Epipodius, I’ll be lighting candles for ya, just see my through my trials!”

“Hee hee!” Jeyne bent forward giggling, “What does that even mean?”

“Oh, I don’t know. My ma always…” his hand dipped away from his eyes.

“Theon?”

“Huh?”

“Your mother?”

“My mother… she was always lighting candles for me. I’d wake up and she would be carrying me through the aisles.  It’s so weird... I just now remembered going to this salmon pink alter with this huge madonna painted under deep blue tiles that arch over her. She has this big golden halo all around her. The church smells like pine and incense. We’d kneel and cross ourselves. My mother would light candles to the holy mother and then there were these ones for specific saints. She’d make me light one for Saint Valentine. I just remembered this like fresh cilantro, black bean and sour cream taste in my mouth and all the funny things she’d say under her breath… ‘Lo’ n’ begorry, anither spell, nah-anither ahn’ something like that. I can’t remember but it were words were all mushed together and it sounded like she had rocks in her jaw when she chewed on her R’s. She talked like my pap… but... I don’t remember him.”

He looked at Jeyne and struggled to see. “I know that she sounded like him when she muttered in the dark church, in front of the candles, but I don’t even know his name or what he looks like. Everyone else would mutter in Spanish. The abuelas would bless us in Latin.” Theon drew his hand back from Jeyne and watched the drop of blood wobble and grow on his fingertip. It smelled like a penny, like another lifetime of memories. None of his lives fit together.

“We’d get this choppy ice cream sometimes afterwards. Even though we were alone in this town plaza that had a great fountain in the center in the middle of the night, there was always music and these little, like, metal carts with neon lights inside were you could get meat on a stick or tamales or this colorful ice cream in all these fruit flavors. I’d get mango and she’d get Papaya and keep wiping her eyes. Sometimes she’d keep talking to saints, ‘He’s a good boy.’” The sphere of blood grew too fat and spilt over his finger into the sink. He turned on the water to wash it away.

“I need to lay down.” She was always laying in her dark bedroom, always. Where is she now? Where is his sister? Are they anywhere any longer?

“Honey,” Theon looked over and blinked. “You have to eat. Your blood sugar is way too low. She rubbed his arm.

He looked at her hand and then back at her face. “Yeah, sure. I just need to make a call.”

“Why don’t you eat first? Please?”

“Theon,” the sound of his name in that voice stabbed him between his shoulder blades. He turned his head slowly.

Roose was looking at him with his head tilted just slightly and an eyebrow arched in warning. “You will come join us. Won’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” He stood slowly and watched his feet carry him to the dining table.

“A nice rare steak would be good for your blood. You look terribly weak this evening.”

 

 


	34. Halo

Theon picked at his food, shoving as much as he could in his tight dry mouth. His stomach twisted. It felt like he had a sore a few inches behind and to the left of his belly button. Sometimes he remembered he would die no matter what Ramsay wanted, and that felt like something.

“I was surprised to find Jeyne in my home alone.”

Theon glanced up from the food he was pushing across his plate. He tried to swallow with some difficulty. “I’m sorry, sir. Alyn wanted me to help him get somethings for Damon, uh, from the… his trailer.”

“And where is Ramsay?” Roose asked casually, stirring his drink.

“I…” he looked around, but didn’t see Alyn anywhere, “I’m not sure but I can call him, right now. Would you like me to?”

“I can call him, I think.”

“Oh,” Theon nodded and snuck a glance at Jeyne, who looked far too comfortable as close as she was to nightmare. “Of course. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize too much, Theon. It saddens me that Jeyne is more comfortable in my home after a few hours than you are after practically being raised here. Ah,” Roose closed his eyes, and tilted his head with a barely audible sigh. “well, you should have been anyhow but, that’s not your fault.” When his eyes reopened they pierced through Theon,”Is it?”  He could see the invisible string of a smile that would send Ramsay into a rage on his thin white lips.

“I…” Theon’s mouth hung open but he caught the offending word in his throat and cleared it out. A weight had locked itself around his neck. He pulled at his shirt collar.

“Jeyne tells me she’s been helping you with taking your medication and so forth?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good.” He turned to Jeyne and leaned back in his chair. “Thank you Ms. Poole. I’ve enjoyed speaking with you. Please tell your parents I send my regards.”

Jeyne smiled and shook his hand. When she stood, Theon noticed her bags laying by her feet.

Theon gripped the side of his chair. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“Do you think you need me to stay?” she asked, biting her lip.

Theon’s embers went cold and dark. “No.” He smiled, so tired, and tried to look handsome for her. “Of course not. I’m sure your car is running, you know, just great now.”

“Mmm,” Roose agreed, as he waved one of his uniformed staff over from a shadow. “He’s so good at fixing problems. I could hardly stand to part with him. Would it be terribly rude to let you see yourself out?” he asked with a ghost of a wince around his pale eyes.

“No, not at all. Thank you for everything. You have such a lovely home.” Jeyne smiled sweet and lovely, but she was trying not to run out the door. “Please thank Ramsay for me as well. Bye, Theon. Please take care.” Her eyes dropped and she rushed away.

Theon stood to chase her. “You’ll finish eating before you leave the table.” He could only grasp at the air left in her wake. Then he sank back in his chair and watched her disappear into the living area. His shoulders dropped and after a few painful moments all hope was crushed by the slam of the door.

“Well,” Roose half-heartedly raised his drink, “I am pleased with the change I’ve seen in my son lately, Theon. His grades are much better, as he promised, his temper is under control, we haven’t had a single incident to deal with, and his friends are improving.” Theon turned around in his seat to face the table and pick at his cold food. “She’s a lovely girl from a good family. Not like the gutter trash he’d bring around before.” Roose’ eyelids dropped in exhaustion upon remembering. “Disgraceful.” Theon looked up at Mr. Bolton. His expression must have been all too clear. “Oh, yes, he’s had other playthings. Worthless, all of them.”

“What…” he was following a trail of breadcrumbs, but he couldn’t stop himself, “how did it… end… with the others?”

Roose took a drink with a slow, thoughtful blink. “Not well with the ones who tried to leave. He has a sickness he’ll never be rid of, I’m afraid.” Roose frowned, “He becomes obsessed with the things he owns whether they hold any value or not.”

“The people?”

Roose glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“I meant, he becomes obsessed with the people he is in a relationship with? It’s not just…” Theon squirmed and looked away.

Roose shrugged, the invisible string tugging at his mouth, just taut enough to strum. “His things, his toys. His cars, his dogs, his clothing. He has no sense of self or worth he’s desperately grasping at things to make him feel as though he matters. He has his black fits when something he’s collected starts to slip away. He sees it as a complete rejection of him as a person. I matter because I have this gold and this gun and this cunt, if the cunt leaves then how can I still matter? Then maybe I am nothing after all.’ Surely you’ve seen this? You’re a smart boy.”

"I..."

"Do you have any idea what I had to put up with when you abandoned your bastard?"

Theon groaned and clutched his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shed the weight enveloping him. "No, sir," he uttered.

"Are you proud of the way you acted with that girl?"

Theon buried his head in his hands. "No, sir."

"Follow me," Roose rising from his seat. "We've needed to talk for a while now."

 

 


	35. Never Stopped Exploding

Theon’s stomach dropped when he realized he was following Roose to his wrecked study. His weak footsteps seemed to sink into the floor, but he kept moving towards disaster as though he was being pulled against his will. Not one word of explanation came to his overwhelmed mind.

When Roose opened and passed through the door, Theon paused, held his breath, and walked into a seemingly untouched room. Roose sat in the chair Theon had seen broken instead of drifting silently behind his desk; he had to know. Theon stood respectfully unsure while Roose looked him over. “Well?” Roose asked, perhaps amused. “You seem surprised. Afraid to touch anything? Who do you think fixed it?”

Theon dropped his head. “I don’t know.”

“I’m not taken with your affected stupidity, like my son is, Theon. It only wastes my time and bores me.”

Theon glanced up then looked back down at his barefeet, his ankles slipping this way and that as his toes tried to grip the plush, clean white carpet. “I’m … Alyn, I would think.”

“Better. Of course it was. He’s discreet, loyal and quite skilled. Not bright in the common sort of way, but good at seeing what needs to be done and doing it without being told to or asking for much in return.” Theon nodded. “Theon,” he glanced up again, “sit.” Roose motioned towards the seat next to his.

Theon clasped his hands and made growing circles on his palm with his thumb as he complied. “Yes, sir.” The chair was cold and hard.

“Good boy.” Roose kept staring at Theon while his long white fingers caressed the arm of his repaired chair. “Impressive work. Do you know how difficult it is to sew leather? Yet, I almost didn’t notice until you gave it all away. I want you to look at me.”

Theon swallowed and his eyes watered to his utter frustration. “Yes, sir.”

“Did you know that I have spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on Ramsay’s so-called ‘friends’?” He regarded Theon with a flat expression, so still, it was easy to believe he had passed away and this torture was over.

“I had an idea.” Roose raised an eyebrow and Theon’s stomach twisted in tighter knots. “... sir.”

“Mmm.” His eyelids eased down as his brow dropped. “Why would I do that? Out of love or charity?”

Theon bit his lip and pressed his hands into his stomach. He didn’t want to hear this, he didn’t want it said. “Were, or… are they… investments you made, sir?”

“Good. I doubt I need to elucidate Damon’s value. He’ll rise through the ranks of the police force rather quickly like his father; what a useful friend for my troubled idiot son to have. Don’t look so surprised. He’s six foot seven with a five foot three mother, how many blond giants between the ages of 35 and 65 do you suppose there are in the north? Damon has proven to be a hardworking, capable drone whose his loyalty is secure. But you, you’re not particularly capable, strong, or skilled, are you, Theon?”

“No, sir.” Theon blinked and forced himself not to look away.

“You can’t steal cars, fix accidents, represent us in court, break in to secure buildings, mend wounds, you could never take care of problem people or even clean up the mess afterwards.”

Theon found himself swaying into the chair’s cold, leather arm rest. He exhaled audibly and gripped it. “No, sir.”

“Of course not. I’m sure with your melancholy and analytical disposition you’ve already agonized over your lack of worth more than I could ever my waste energy doing. Is that a fair assumption?”

“Yes,” Theon rasped. “Yes, sir. I’m…”

“Do you still wonder what it is you’re good for then? Or have you decided?”

“Nothing.” Theon shook his head. He pulled his knees to his chest without meaning to and wrapped his arms around them. “I know. I understand if you need to … you’ve been more than fair with me. I am grateful. I won’t fight, sir.”

A puff of air escaped Roose. His eyes were laughing. “You’re still ready for a bullet through your skull? Why would I spend a small fortune purchasing you from your deranged father just to throw you away? Do you think I’m in the habit of wasting my time and resources?”

“No… no, sir.” 

“Tell me what you are good for.”

Theon’s face warmed. He felt the weight around him would have to relent or crush him soon. He remembered Damon telling him his job was, “To keep Ramsay stable for you, sir.”

“That’s right, to secure my biggest investment.” Roose sighed and looked away from Theon at last, gazing at the fire. “Everything your master has is because of me. You can tell him that when he forces you to account for every minute you spent out of his grasp..”

“Oh-” Theon’s forehead fell onto his knees.

“There’s a trashcan by the desk if you’re going to vomit.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll try not to.”

“I know exactly what you are and I know you can remember that simple fact, yet, look at you; falling apart just hearing it said aloud. Your denial is a grave problem. Stop fighting, stop running, and you can begin to live with yourself. ” Roose stood and walked toward the fireplace. “I took a chance with Ramsay. I suppose I had to... but I detest excuses. I could have had he and his mother killed and no one would have noticed, to be honest. He’s a great weapon to have at my disposal but, like any good weapon,  if he can’t be controlled properly he’s simply a danger to everyone, myself included. I tried to undo the damage his mother caused, but he’s only come so far.”

“He...” Theon’s arms started to twitch and tremble. Everything felt so brutally, unforgivingly real that it somehow felt unreal… at least separate from the cloud of distractions he used to hide from this unbearable horror that was himself and his life. “He’s viciously cunning and incredibly capable. Ramsay,” Theon sniffed and rubbed his eyes on his shoulder. He looked up and Roose and tried to straighten his back, though he couldn’t give up holding his legs close. “Ramsay would do anything for you. He would die to make you proud.”

“Well, now I’m sure of it; you were his before I bought you.” Theon didn’t understand what that meant. “He’s come as far as he has because he had you to fulfill his… bizarre needs. Here’s what you have to face before you cause me unforgivable difficulties: you can not escape Ramsay with some girl you think you’d be happy wooing. You couldn’t even stomach imagining what Ramsay would to the person you abandoned him for while he made you watch, unable to stop him or offer a touch or breath of comfort. Your apologies would have to wait for a deaf and mutilated corpse and then he’d start on you. Ramsay will break you down lower than before. What else do you plan in your empty hours? Suicide? If you ever have an ‘incident’ like you did at the mall again, I will make sure you understand what it’s really like to beg for death myself.” Roose studied Reek’s face with a hungry darkness in his eyes that sent Reek’s mind soaring back to the basement with Ramsay’s glittering knife soaked in his blood. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“There’s a good boy.” Roose came closer to Reek, who pushed back into the cold, hard chair. “If you make Ramsay lose his mind, you’ll have ruined everything I spent half my life building. If, after I called in decades-old favors. spent thousands of dollars, and risked my only living child to save your life, you still feel it's truly intolerable being lavished with everything I’ve given you, then you would have to let the ‘relationship’ end on Ramsay’s terms.” Reek squinted and furrowed his brow. “I did say most of his obsessions ended poorly, not all. Tell me, why would he let you go?”

When Reek blinked tears started to escape his eyes. “I don’t…”

“How do you think the ones that lived got away? It’s so simple you’ve looked right past it.”

Reek’s eyes widened suddenly. “He got bored of them.”

Roose smoothed Reek’s hair out of his face and he froze, white hot needles running from his scalp down to his toes. “That’s right. You must be very good for him. It’s the only option open to you, and not because of any threats I’ll follow through on.  Stop surprising and challenging him. Become flat and empty with him, as you do with me. Stop fighting, little lost boy. Once he’s won the game, he’ll be done playing, won’t he? Think it over, like I know you will.”

Theon’s lungs were burning. He exhaled and dipped just below Roose’s touch. “Would-would you let me go?” Reek gasped in a dry whisper. “If he did, sir?”

Reek could just barely hear Roose snorting. “Perhaps.” He leaned down and cupped Reek’s jaw. His eyes were dancing. Ramsay’s fire was there after all, deep under all his calculations and layers of stone. “How would that make you feel?” Reek shuddered and shriveled further into a tight ball. “You’re cold. Come stand by the fire.”

Reek cried out, too late to stifle himself when Roose wrapped a cold hard hand around the back of his neck and pulled him up to standing. Roose gently pushed him forward, closer to the fire’s warmth. “You must have wondered why I haven’t killed Ramsay after all the trouble he’s caused me. Tell me your best guess.”

Reek screwed his eyes shut and leaked his weakness. “He is very useful and… I thought maybe… I think you’d be bored without him.”

“You always were a clever boy,” Roose said softly, right into his ear. He whimpered and a violent shudder ran over him. Roose gripped his neck more tightly. “I see why you amuse him.” His cool breath hit Reek’s neck. H _e’s laughing at me. It’s all a game, one after another._

Roose’s free hand glided towards the poker. He pushed a log onto it’s side, to be ravished by flames. Reek watched the hook and point of the poker idly spin in heart of the fire. “Things were more straight-forward for centuries but we live in an anomalous time and place where we must pretend to be more saint than animal.” Roose pulled the poker out and considered its glowing metal. “One used to brand their property with, what was essentially, the message ‘If Found Return to...’ Things aren’t as simple now but don’t let that fool you into thinking that anything has truly changed.” He brought the red hot poker closer to Reek’s face, holding his neck fast. “Who do you belong to?”

Reek’s eye’s darted from the bit of hell making him sweat to Roose’s winter sky eyes. “R-ra-” Roose nodded slightly to encourage him. “Ramsay. You bought me for Ramsay.”

“Good boy. So? Who owns you?”

“Ramsay and you, sir.”

“That’s right. Oh, Theon, are you ill?”

“Yes, sir, please-” Roose smirked and released him. He shot across the room and dropped to his knees, pulling a small trash can up to his face. He puked up the fish and oysters he’d just eaten. It tasted and smelled so awful, he kept dry heaving after his stomach was empty. “I’m sorry,” he croaked and collapsed on the floor.

“Alyn.” Roose said calmly. “I know you’re there. Come here please.”

The door slowly opened and Alyn stepped in with his head lowered. “Did you repair my study?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Who made the mess?”

Alyn shrugged.

“Theon?”

Theon pushed himself up to his hands and knees. “Damon, it was after Lysie passed away.”

“He’s taking the Tyrell boy on his job and meet his father?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And that’s where Ramsay is headed?”

“Yes, I think so, sir.”

“I see. Alyn, help your friend back to Ramsay’s wing. Can you look after him now that the girl is gone and I’m here?”

Alyn smiled. “She’s gone? Yes, sir. I will.”

“I want him to eat before he goes to bed.”

“Yes, sir.” Alyn stood in the doorway a moment, and then seemed to realize Roose meant now.

“Hey, pal,” he said softly. “I’m going to touch you now. It’s to help you up and out of here. I’m not going to pull any kind of gay or fucked shit, ok?”

“Ok,” Reek’s voice broke in between syllables.

Alyn helped him stand. He guided Reek’s left arm over his shoulders and wrapped an arm around his chest.

 

At Ramsay’s stairwell, Reek sank into weeping. “Aw,” Alyn pulled him up. “Shit. Don’t…” Alyn looked around, pressing his lips together. He tried to prop Theon against the handrail and slap his face- not as hard as before. Theon cried out and curled up like a dead spider. “Fuck. Uh… stop that! Hey!” Alyn rubbed his head then remembered something. “REEK, STOP THAT!” His head popped up from the ball of limbs with huge eyes and an open but quiet mouth. “Good. Good boy. Ok, now we’ll go upstairs I think I should… what… what are you doing? Stop that.” He was making some kind of reverse scream each time his chest bulged out. “No! Don’t do that! BREATH RIGHT! DAMN IT!” He looked over his shoulder but no one was coming yet. “Shut up!” He grabbed Theon’s shoulders and shook him. “Shut up! You’re going to get us in trouble!”

 

“Shhh! Shut up, Theon! You’ll bring him up here and he’s already drunk!” Asha glanced over her shoulder and turned back to him, looking furious. “Stop. It. You have to stop or he’ll kill us.” She started shaking his shoulders. “Stop it, please! Why are you always crying?!”

“Where’s ma?” he sobbed.

The door broke open and light fell over them both. Maron’s shadow loomed over them. “Come here.”

“Leave him alone!” Asha whispered, kicking his shin.

“Go to bed, Asha. You want to get your ass beat? I’ll take him out.” They could hear Balon yelling about the assholes always fucking him over, and how he’d get his and they theirs, god damn it. Maron covered Theon's mouth and rushed him downstairs then out through the pantry door.

“You have to stop this shit and be a fucking man or he’s gonna fucking bash your head in and through your body to the sharks.” Maron rapsed under his breath. Theon’s chin bounced off Maron's shoulder as he jogged and he bit his tongue. Maron looked around then shoved Theon into his sharp, sleek car. It was turquoise blue with white detailing. He got in the front and shut his door carefully then put the car in neutral. It started to slide down the sandy gravel driveway.

“Where did the men take ma?”

“Shut up!” Maron’s shoulders tensed. “Shit.” He looked in the rear view mirror. “Here he comes. Good job, you fucking baby.” Maron started the car and turned on the headlights.

“Where you goin’?” He yelled slurring and stumbling through the thick spongy lawn. “Where is he? I heard him! Crying for mama! I’ll give him something to cry about! Crazy bitch like his mother!”

Maron stopped the car and rolled down his window. “Don’t you talk about ma like that, asshole!” His hand shot out his window into the night. “YOU’RE the one that fucked her up!”

“Fuck you!” Balon’s voice was closer. Theon squeezed between the his seat and the one in front of him, getting as close as he could to the floor while still looking out the window. He could just make out palm leaves blowing in front of and away from the street light. “Think your so big now, do ya? I hope they put her down, crazy babbling cunt!”

“Keep ‘er locked. He’s fucking wasted again.” Maron jumped out of the car and slammed his door. “FUCK YOU! You don’t talk about ma like that!”

A back slammed into the window across from him. Theon heard them fight and hated himself more with every awful sound. _Why can’t you just be quiet?_

 

“I can’t! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Theon shook against the bottom stair like something was about to pop inside so Alyn sat down on the bottom stair and pulled Theon into his lap.

He wrapped his arms around Theon’s so he couldn’t attack Alyn or himself. “Ok, kid. It’s ok.” Theon tensed in his arms and his head turned back and forth. “I know, you feel trapped. Its not forever, I promise. It will be over in a few minutes.” He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say that part. It just came out. “Its uh… you can cry. That’s ok.”

 _“I want Ramsay_ ,” the poor little guy sounded like Lysie when she was upset. 

“Well, there’s fuck all I can do about that!” Theon tried to push away. “Wait, wait, stop it. We’ll call him when you calm the fuck down.”

“Ok.” Theon pushed against his arm again. "I'm calm."

“No. You have to relax. Then you’ll be past this, uh, runaway loop thing and then I’ll let go.”

Theon stopped struggling and sank. “What if he doesn’t come back?”

 

“Aren’t you coming back, love?”

Ramsay looked up from his watch. “Of course, I’m just putting on some music.” Ramsay called over his shoulder. He finished running his finger around her empty glass and licked it before popping a cork. He tucked a vial back onto its magnetic strip under the counter top then shut the drawer, concealing it. “Champagne?”


	36. Singing You to Shipwreck

“Here you are.” Ramsay handed Margaery an empty glass. “Say when.”

“Actually,” she pulled the glass away before he could start pouring, “I’d like some of the cognac you’re drinking.”

“Really?” Ramsay’s eyebrows shot up as the corners of his mouth turned down, in impressed but skeptical surprise. “Ladies? What would you care for?”

“Oh! Champagne for me please,” the one with straight, thick black hair cut at a sharp angle chirped. She had a pouty mouth and a tight little ass just waiting to be torn up.

He turned to the girl with thick thighs and melon breasts he could feel his teeth sinking into. Streaks of brown hues twisted into tight curls around her face. He could imagine his fingers slipping into that mess and pulling her head back as he slid inside her hot contracting pussy. “I’m good.” She closed her eyes and rolled her head back to rest on the rim of the hot tub. He loved the shock on their faces when they realized he wasn’t playing. The look in their dumb, complacent eyes, like they’d woken up for the first time in their pointless lives.

“Alright, one champagne, one cognac, and you, dear?” The one with long silky chestnut brown hair and long golden legs pulled herself out of the water. She was a little too muscular. She always looked as though she smelled something foul and it would be great fun to change that uppity expression.

“Champagne, I guess." She uttered in labored croaks. "Cognac sounds like something an old man drinks.”

The real horror came to them when they began to accept what was happening. That was the moment he felt a connection; when they understood they were his to play with. “Oh,” he turned away from the bar with a dopey look, “no one wanted ice did they?” Margaery and her chirpy friend started giggling. “What’s so funny?” He rubbed the back of his neck and gave them a bashful smile.

“Like this song?” Margaery teased tilting her head back. He realized he’d been nodding to the beat. “I bet you’re a great dancer.”

“I am.” He brought their drinks over and rested his elbows on the tub to stare at them with a borrowed boyish grin. “A gentleman can’t like some Brittany?” The girls giggled except old sewer-face who rolled her eyes. She took her purse into a love seat in the corner and rummaged through it. Could Alyn have a sister that attractive? “I was her understudy, you know.”

Margaery covered her mouth, to keep from spitting out her drink. “Her what?”

“UN-DER-STUD-Y. Why are you laughing at me? Someone had to go on when she broke an ankle or shaved her head.”

“And that was you? You were, like, her double?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Look at her Poison video and watch very carefully at three minutes in and then for the last minute and a half.”

“Oh, stop it!” Margaery leaned forward, laughing. Her glass bobbed around in her hand.

Ramsay jumped up. “I’ll show you. Come here.” He extended his hand to her. Her eyes narrowed and she pouted. “Mmm, but I’m so comfy, love. Selena.” The chirpy black haired girl looked up from the chips she was munching on. “Dance with Ramsay, darling.”

Game Selena sucked the salt off her fingers with a smile. She squeezed her shoulders together coyly and started swaying her hips. Ramsay grabbed her hand and pulled her, with a little spin, into his chest. “Ah!” She pushed away with a laugh. He shimmied his shoulders at her and started dancing. Shaking his head at her, he mouthed that she was a womanizer.

Ramsay was rubbing his ass into Selena’s stomach as she folded onto his back laughing. The other girls cheered and giggled when the fucking killjoy skipper came in with an enormous plastic phone in hand. “Mr. Ramsay,” he called over the music with a smug little smile.

Ramsay straightened himself and used a remote to turn down the music. “Yes, Jeeves?” Margaery covered her mouth with a sly, guilty smile. Selena snorted, female Alyn rolled her eyes and kept texting into her phone. The skipper narrowed his already beady eyes. Ramsay wanted to squeeze his stupid fat head until the puss popped out. “Mr. Bolton,” he said, and held out the phone with a satisfied look on his putrid frog face.

“Yes? Yes? You have my attention. Do you need help operating that device?” Ramsay asked patiently. “You push the buttons of the numbers you wish to dial, Jeeves.”

The skipper frowned. “It’s your father.”

“Why thank you, Jeeves. I appreciate you going all the way back to 1993 to get me this phone too.” The skipper looked around with a flustered sneer at his giggling guests before going back up to the deck.

“Hello, father.” Ramsay grinned at Margaery, holding up a finger to regretfully ask for a moment. He walked up stairs taking his snifter of Courvoisier with him.

“You know that Damon has an important job to focus on.”

“Of course. Why? Does he need help?”

“You’re not going to interfere because your delicate feelings are threatened? Are you?”

Ramsay inhaled deeply through his nose. His upper lip curled bitterly. “ _I never objected to hunting deer_ ,” he muttered. He saw a bit of light shadowed from the corner of his eye. “I’m on a date with a nice girl from a wealthy, reputable family, actually. I suppose the skipper called to tell you. Aren’t you happy about that?”

“She's eavesdropping?”

“Uh huh.”

Roose sighed. "I don’t trust or like the Tyrells, Ramsay. Do not bring one around my property again. Do you understand?”

Ramsay downed the rest of his drink. “Yes, father. "

"Yet, there you are, bringing her onto _my_ private yacht with her clucking friends who are probably posting photos right now on the internet for the world to see.”

“But I turned off the-”

“Don’t say something stupid if she's listening, Ramsay. I just sent home a nice girl from a good family who you so rudely left to your animals. We had a chat before she went.”

Ramsay leaned against the counter. His nails pressed into the granite ledge. “Did Alyn fix-”

“Yes, yes. _Alyn_ is so practical. She told me she was watching after your creature. I can’t imagine why he’s so distraught.”

“Distraught?”

“Its nice to see you finally attempting to take care of something I’ve bought you, however clumsy that attempt may be. You should really let your father help you, Ramsay. I know you’re trying but it's clear you’re still a sensitive child. If you were to lose Damon or cause him to fail at his task, that would be an extremely bothersome setback for me.”

 _“I won’t_.”

“Good. I hope to see you soon then. I’ll take good care of your creature in Jeyne’s stead until you come home where you belong.” There was a dial tone then Ramsay threw his glass into the wall.

 

“Wake up! Wake up! Please! Please! Get up!”

“What? What is it?” Damon shot up to his knees. He saw the Loras’ shadow roll away and heard him land on the floor. He felt around for his lamp and clicked it on. “Are you ok? What happened?”

Loras peaked above the mattress. He rubbed the back of his head. “I thought you stopped breathing.”

“Oh? Well... shit. Maybe I have sleep, uh, whatever it’s called.” Damon groaned and stretched his way out of bed. He pulled Loras up into his arms and cradled him a moment. “You ok?”

“Yeah, heh, I was just making sure you were ok. That’s all.”

“Alright.” Damon turned the lamp back off then walked towards a rocking chair that sat by the balcony.

Loras shrank up a little in his arms. “What-what are you-”

“Shh.” Damon sat down. His broad chest popped out as he stretched his back with a yawn. He started to pet Loras’ head. “Go back to sleep.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Just let me. ”

“But-”

“I know you had another nightmare. Be quiet and go back to sleep.”

“I don’t-”

“One.” Loras gave up. He didn’t want to feel safer but he did, even as he shrank. “You’ll feel better tomorrow.” Loras slid a hand onto Damon’s chest and snorted. “What?”

“I think you’re so hairy because you’re a teddy bear.” For some reason that made Loras keep snickering to himself. Damon smiled in the dark and smacked his ass. “Ow! Ha ha.”

“I have you. Just hush and sleep now.”

 

“Are you coming?” Alyn looked back over his shoulder then turned around to extend his hand. “Its pretty cool.”

Reek hugged himself more deeply into Ramsay’s jacket. “Are you sure it’s ok?”

“What do you think?” Alyn took another hit off his pipe and held it in his chest.

Reek watched the smoke spiral in the moonlight as Alyn exhaled. “It beautiful. I can’t believe I never figured out how to get up here." At the end of their patch of roof they could glimpse above the still trees into the starry purple sky. He could never see all these stars in Winterfell. It was a brighter night up here.

“Have some.” Alyn offered Reek his pipe. “It will help you relax and eat.”

“I don’t think Ramsay would like that,” Reek muttered.

“No, no, it’s cool. It’s only me.” Alyn pushed the pipe out closer to him before he gave up and pulled it back.

Reek felt his phone vibrating and pulled it out of Ramsay’s fur-lined pocket. He looked over to Alyn. “I don’t know this number.”

Alyn grabbed the phone from his hand. “What?” He lit his bowl and listened. “Yeah. No. NO. Hey, can your boy smoke with me? Of course it is.” He looked at Reek with a flat smile. “There you go, bitch. I told you it was fine. Here.”

“Ramsay? When are you coming home?”

“Tomorrow, puppy. Are you being a good boy?”

“Yes. Your father’s here.”

“I know, I know. There will be some time when I might out of range... just remember I’m coming for you tomorrow. I’ll make it snow for you, ok?”

Ramsay smiled when his Reek tried to smother a laugh. His voice was light and sweet. “Ok. I'll see you then.”

“ _You’re mine_ ,” he whispered.

“I know.”

“Ramsay? Is everything alright, love?”

“ _Keep your fucking phone on you_.” Ramsay whispered and hung up. “Yeah, coming!”

 

Ramsay came downstairs with an listless swagger. He looked up biting back a smile. The girls were singing along to Tainted Love, what were the chances? Ramsay threw his arms up and let them collapse at his sides. “I’m afraid I have to leave.”

“Ohhh no!" Margaery pouted. “So soon?”

“As I said, most of the crew will be here all weekend so stay as long as you’d like.” Margaery pulled herself out of the bubbling water. She was beautifully made of tight creamy flesh still, looking around the yacht’s cabin, it all became painfully boring and he was happy to leave. Margaery wrapped herself in a plush towel with a red R embroidered in the corner. She swayed and offered her hand for his lips to kiss. “Huh,” he reflected her sly smirk back to her and pulled her to him, wrapping a hand around her neck. He kissed her deeply and left her with a wink.

She staggered back and looked around at her friends, blushing, then collapsed.

“Oh, honey,” Selena laughed. “Let’s get you to bed.” Ramsay marched upstairs away from a wasted opportunity towards a better dawn.

"Hey, Jeeves." He said cheerily as he buttoned his winter jacket. "I bet you think its really funny to be a fucking dick because you actually think you're worth the obscene amount of money my father pays you. Want to hear something _really_ funny?" Ramsay leaned in close to watch his beady eyes bulge as he slit his fat throat. Steam came from the wound as the skipper gurgled. Ramsay sliced into his cheek and then stabbed his chest with a grunt. "You were hired because your desperate and expendable. _The punchline is; your life is over already and will no one even notice that you're gone_." Ramsay laughed and pushed him overboard. The thin layer of ice cracked as soon as his back hit it. He raised his hand and sank into black water as Ramsay waved bye-bye.

 

Reek paced up and down the dark hall. He was wet with sweat and shivering cold. He only heard his heart beating in his ears when he stopped in front of Alyn’s haunted room and pushed the cracked door open. “Alyn?” He pushed the door a little more. A long rectangle of light fell, bumping over the clothes, shoes and bags laying on the floor. He half expected to hear Asha pulling her blinds open. “Alyn?” He shook his head and started to turn away.

“What?”

“Fuck!” Reek jumped back when he saw Alyn standing behind him. “Oh Christ.” He grabbed at his heart. “Nothing. Its stupid.”

“What?”

“I was just wondering if you were up.”

“Well… I am. See?”

“I think Ramsay’s tv is on the wrong input or something. I can’t get it to work. I don’t mean to bother you… I... I don’t like sleeping in the dark, heh."

Alyn looked him over. “I can’t sleep either. Grab a blanket and come lay on the couch. I’m was gonna watch cartoons. You can put on whatever if you want.” Alyn walked back into Ramsay’s living room and curled up on the love seat.

Reek hurried to get a pillow and pull the comforter from the bed. He laid on the couch with a sigh of relief and a full stomach, feeling comfortable at last. “Thanks, pal.”


	37. The Sea Would Electrocute Us All

“Not here. I’ll tell you on the way.” Reek looked through his eyelashes, hoping Locke wouldn’t see that he’d woken.

“What should I bring?”

“Mints? gum? Maybe a dentist?” Locke laughed like a drunk on a 5:00 am sidewalk as he left them.

“Asshole.”Alyn went to take a swig from a silver beer can but then shook and tossed it on the floor. He walked over to the mini-fridge behind the bar and opened another with a slow crack and pop. “You awake?”

“Yeah,” Reek whispered. “You aren’t leaving, are you?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Reek pulled the blanket up to his chin and sniffled. “That kind of sucks.”

“Nah, should be quick and easy.”

Reek rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as dimmer and brighter hues of blue flashed across it. “Just me and Mr. Bolton then? Jesus fuck.”

“He’s ok.”

Reek sat up and the blanket slid, falling down to his lap. “Are you fucking serious?” he whispered. “Aren’t you terrified of him?”

“ _Terrified_?” Alyn walked back and dropped onto the loveseat. “No.”

“Well, shit.” Reek just shook his head and laid back down. “Alyn?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you know the other people that Ramsay… was with?”

“With?”

“His, uh, the people he dated, or whatever…”

“Oh.” Alyn drank about half of his cold beer. “I knew some of them. Why?”

“How…” Reek cleared his throat, “um, how did it end… with them?”

“He’s not going to kill you if that’s what you’re trying to ask.”

Reek started laughing in spite of himself. “That bad, huh?” He covered his mouth but keep tittering nervously. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny.” Alyn shrugged a shoulder and scratched his back. “What about the ones that ended not as bad? Did he just… leave them?”

Alyn sighed and pulled his cap down over his eyes. “Some of the nice girls, the quiet ones, would keep calling him after a few weeks and he just wouldn’t answer until they stopped. That one guy, Luton, he said he was boring.”

“Really?” Reek chewed his lip. “Luton, huh? Hmm... I didn’t know that.”

Alyn lifted his chin to peer at Theon from under his hat. “Do you think that’s something I shouldn’t have said?”

“I doubt he’d care.” Reek laid down and pulled the blanket back up to his chin. “I won’t say anything though. There’s nothing to say.” He rolled on his back to watch the ceiling again. “Do you think the relationships that ended well were boring because they were peaceful?”

“Shit, I don’t know! Are you asking for advice or something? He killed the ones that left, so don’t leave.”

“Thanks.” Reek closed his eyes. Between his pain-free body, the murmur of the television and Alyn yawning,  he found it wasn’t hard to sleep again.

 

“Wake up.” Renly slapped his thigh.

“Honk-shoo, honnnk-shoooo.”

“Get off! You’re too big to sleep on me!”

“Honnnnnk-shooooo.”

“That's not how you snore.”

Loras pushed himself up and looked down at Renly, frowning. “I do not snore.”

“You do,” Renly laughed. “You sound like, ‘claaaAAAAcchhk shauw-shauw hurrrrRRdck.”

“I snore like the Swedish Chef?” Renly’s squinty dark eyes closed in little rainbows and he grabbed his sides giggling.

Loras dropped down beside him, resting his head on Renly’s chest. His hand ran up a ripple of ribs on the only other skin that felt like his. “I had a terrible dream. It hurt so much.”

“I know.”

“The doctor came out into waiting area and I knew as soon as I saw his face, but I still stood there waiting for some kind of twist at the end, some kind of surprise that would make things ok. I could hardly make out what he’s saying until Brienne started screaming. He told me, looking me right in the fucking eye, ‘If we could have got to him even an hour earlier there may have been a chance.’ Why would he say that to me unless he had a fucking time machine waiting for me? What the fuck could I do?”

“It was not, it is not, and will never be your fault, sweetheart.”

“But I just _slept while you died_.”

“I was sleeping too.”

“I TOLD YOU not to meet with him!"

"I know. I'm sorry."

"The very first thing I felt that morning was angry at you. Then I was even more pissed because I thought you left without me for that donor brunch so you could avoid me and say you just wanted me to sleep in."

"Ha, yeah, I probably would have."

"You hated fighting."

"I do."

"You never wanted to hurt anyone. You didn't want to hurt that hardhearted lunatics feelings. He doesn't have any."

"He said I had a niece. I thought it was a new start."

"You were so stupid. Just like me. Bighearted, brave and fucking stupid."

"Then don't do it. It's not too late, I promise."

"I didn’t feel you next to me because your heat was gone. I actually went to take a piss,” Loras squeezed his eyes shut until tears bled from them. “When I came out of bathroom my heart stopped and never started again.”

Renly played with Loras' hair. His head rose with Renly’s soft stomach when he inhaled deeply. “Do you remember the last thing you said to me?”

“No.”

“Yes, you do.”

Loras blinked his eyes open and sat up, running his hand on Renly’s smooth chest. He remembered thinking he would watch that white tummy get pudgy, that chestnut hair recede further from those temples, hear that voice lower and crackle, watch those crows feet deepen around his smiley eyes, hear those same stories get longer, and Loras would have been happier still to have it all and share the life they were building.

“I said,” he swallowed and looked into Renly’s softly smiling eyes, “ _I love you_.”

“And I said,” Renly took Loras’ hand in both of his, “ _I love you too_. I was so lucky; I didn’t suffer, I wasn’t scared, I just went to sleep in my favorite place next to the best person in my universe who kissed my forehead and told me he loved me even though he was mad that I didn’t listen-” Renly frowned and gripped Loras’ hand tightly. “Loras, what was that?”

 

Loras slowly sat up and looked towards the bedroom door. “Damon! Damon, did you hear that?” He’d been moved into the bed. Damon was laying on his side. His broad shoulder nearly reached Loras’ collar bone.

“You had another bad dream,” Damon grumbled.

“I did?” Loras collapsed onto his back, covering his eyes under his elbow. “I’m so fucking sick of nightmares.”

Damon yawned, “Poor guy.” His hand slowly rose up into the air until his fingers extended, splaying out then his arm crashed down on Loras, wrapped up to his shoulder, and pulled him to Damon’s chest.

“It’s so cold,” Loras sighed, closing his eyes, “and you’re so warm.”

“Well,” Damon rubbed his shoulder, “I’m right here.”

 

“Theon.” Reek flipped over, sat up then had to halt himself as he started to recoil. Roose tilted his head and looked Reek over.

“Oh, I thought…”

“His mother said he's beginning to sound like me. She doesn’t seem very happy about that.” Roose looked over at Alyn, splayed out like a murder victim with his neck and shoulder hanging off the love seat, then looked down at Reek raising an eyebrow.

“I, uh…” Reek’s face grew hot, “I had a hard time sleeping.”

“Get cleaned up and dressed. Breakfast is at seven.”

“Yes, sir.” Roose turned to leave. “Should I wake Alyn too?”

Roose didn’t stop to look back as he walked away. “Locke will feed him.”

“Alyn?”

His eyes shot open and he gripped the leather to keep from falling off. Theon was doing that weird thing with his hands. Alyn had no idea what it meant. He’d never seen someone do it before. “What?”

“Could you… uh…” he bit his lip and his cheeks were red.

Maybe he was guilty or embarrassed? How the fuck was Alyn supposed to know what this shit meant? He hates games! “WHAT?!” Theon’s eyes got watery. “NO! DON’T DO THAT!” Don’t yell at crying friends no matter how stupid they’re being, he remembered, it only makes them freak out. “Just say it. Now.”

“Could... could you o-open some d-doors for me?” He stared at his feet and made his thumb circles.

“Was that so hard?” Alyn threw his hands up and swiped his hat off the floor. “Come on. Come on. What? Bathroom and closet?”

“Yeah.” Theon hurried behind him.

“For Roose?”

“Uh huh.”

“Fine.”

 

After opening the shower door Alyn turned around to find Theon standing right behind him with a beaten-stray look on his face. “WHAT?”

“Did he… he told you about the doors and stuff?”

“Ugh,” Alyn rolled his eyes. “Yeah, so?”

“Oh.” Theon slumped against the wall. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think I figured something out but it turns out to be another nice dream.” He made a flat smile and slunk around Alyn to start the water. He rolled his spider hand in the hot stream and moved his fingers like he'd just found out he could work them.

Alyn yawned and sat on the counter.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“What?” Alyn squinted at him but couldn’t make out what his face was doing.

“Get out.”

“Fuck you!” Alyn jumped up and pushed his chest into Theon’s until the curtain wrapped around his back. “GET OUT? MY ASS SHOULD BE _SLEEPING_! I DON’T HAVE TO DO _SHIT_ FOR YOU, BITCH.”

“Stop it.” Theon’s bird chest started heaving against his. He was staring through Alyn’s neck, thousands of miles away. “Don’t call me that. Please leave.”

Alyn felt frustrated and confused. He meant to yell, 'Why are you making me feel bad when I’ve done everything to be a good pal for you?' but his hands flew out to pull Theon up by his shirt instead. “Just hurry the fuck up! Do you understand? Don’t be an asshole to me!”

Theon’s toes danced on the cool tile. Steam billowed above them, falling so slowly. “I’m not! Just DON’T LOOK AT ME!”

“DON’T YELL AT ME!”

“OK!”

“IT’S REALLY EARLY!”

“I KNOW! _Please_ ,” Theon groaned through gritted teeth, “you _have_ to let go or we’ll both get in trouble.”

Alyn smiled and released him. “It’s going to be fun to kick your ass, bitch.” He started laughing when Theon finally punched him in the face.

He rolled away from it, but Theon was fast and wiry. His bony knuckles dug into Alyn’s cheek, just under his eye, and grazed the bridge of his nose. His left fist hit Alyn’s kidney as Alyn pulled back to smack Theon's face down. “Pretty good,” Alyn grunted then grabbed Theon’s shoulders and kneed his hollow stomach. Theon soundlessly tried to suck in air with a wide open red face while Alyn pushed him back into Ramsay’s bedroom and threw him to the floor. Theon gasped, long and raspy, rolling on the carpet.

Alyn stood over him and playfully kicked at his feet. “Ready? Can you breathe yet?”

Theon held up a hand and shook his head. “I ca- I can’t! Mr…” he curled up into a ball again and held his head.

“Aw, don’t do that.”

“I-I have to be ready for-for br-breakfast at ssss-se-seven.”

“Oh, ok.” Alyn knelt down and Theon rolled away with a quick flip onto his back.

“Don’t touch me!” Theon did a backwards crab walk to the wall.

“Stop being...  just get up then.”

Theon inched his way up the wall and kept his back to it as the shuffled towards the bathroom. He shook his head and whined, “ _Whyyy_ are you _following_ me?”

“You know you can’t do that alone."

"I don't want you to see me!"

"Oh, that's why your all batshit? I already saw it when I pulled you out of bed and you landed on you back. Remember?"

"Oh, god!" Theon stopped to bury his red face in his palms.

"I don’t care! Stop being so…” what was the word… _kid, don’t be so fucking_ , “obstinate!” Theon was shaking his head slowly while clutching his chest, as though he didn’t believe Alyn. “It's true! Ramsay gave me the key…” he looked around his hips until he found the chain leading to his wallet.

“No, no, no. That’s it!” Alyn looked up to find Theon’s face had changed again. His eyes were big and round, but his nostrils were flaring. His chest was puffed out and his shoulders squared, but his hands were trembling like dry leaves in winter wind. “I’m done.” He turned and left the room.

Alyn frowned and followed. “What are you doing?” Theon kept gliding down the hallway as if he was being carried along by conveyor. “Where are you going?”

Theon started giggling.

“What’s so funny? Hey!” Alyn hurried to catch up. “You can’t go downstairs. You have to get ready for breakfast. Remember?”

“Ha ha, NOPE!”

“What are you going to do? Walk barefoot through the snow?”

“Pfft, yeah. Down the mountain. It will be a miracle! I’ll start a cult, ha ha!” Theon started laughing so hard, he grabbed his stomach and crashed against the wall. “Oh shit! I am so fucking fucked! Ha ha ha!” He slapped the ground and rolled onto his back laughing. His face didn’t match the laughter. It looked like he was really screaming.

Alyn felt sad and knelt down to speak softly. “I’ll help you get ready.” He grabbed Theon’s ankle and pulled him back to the shower. Theon repeated ‘no’ in between laughing fits until he started weeping.

 

“Where are you going?”

Damon looked up from the the wristwatch he was winding. “Surveillance, reconnaissance. I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“You’re just leaving me here and, by the way, I have to make dinner? Were you going to tell me or even wake me up?”

“Yeah, and I told you yesterday.”

“Well…” Damon pulled his fur-lined deerstalker down over his ears and zipped up his coat. “I don’t want to you go.”

Damon pulled Loras to him by the back of his neck and kissed his mouth, pushing into it. Loras’ nails dug into his shoulder. Loras hung around Damon’s neck and was lifted off the ground as he stood. Damon laughed his low rumble and squeezed Loras with a bear hug. “Stay here and relax. Be good.” He set Loras down and patted his curly head with a leather-gloved hand before leaving.

Loras watched the door shut, then watched Damon leave through the window until he was swallowed by the woods. He sighed and heard a creak behind him.

He turned around slowly and found the basement door swinging open.

"Hello."

 

 


	38. Waiting Patiently

Loras took a step back, slowly shaking his head and grabbed the door handle behind him.

 

 

Ramsay waited, still and silent. Red lights blinked on and off in an indiscernible pattern around their white tree. The fake pine needles made stabbing shadows on the wall. The garland was a cold, glittering grey. He hardly breathed as he sat listening, letting the room occupy his mind. Every sound made a picture in the dark. He practiced all the scenarios he could think of as time buzzed, frozen, waiting to spring.

Finally, he heard soft but distinct footsteps on the hardwood floor. A little unsteady; he must be struggling under his heavy sack. Ramsay ran a wet tongue across his sharp teeth. Come on in. He rolled his lips against one another. They’re on the table for you; fresh and warm. He heard the tripwire snap and the counterweight drop. “HA HA!” Wrapping paper torn as he burst from his decoy box and snapped a photo. He heard hands padding against the floor and a low growl, but the flash still danced in his eyes, even as he tried to rub it out. “Welcome to my home,” he began as he rewound his disposable camera. “I have so many questions for you. You can have your cookies, but first some demands-”

“It’s my house, bastard, not yours.”

Ramsay stepped out of his prop present and approached his swaying catch. He looked over the young, stubble-faced, dark haired, toned young man with a frown. He didn’t even have a red shirt on. Ramsay knelt by his pink, swelling head, and looked down into his face. “Oh,” he sighed, “it’s you.”

Domeric pushed himself up away from the floor with both hands and kicked his foot up until the noose around his ankle started to loosen. He saw a sliver of light flash as the upsidedown child pulled sleek metal to eye level then his arm blurred and Domeric collapsed on the floor, groaning.

“You ruined my trap.” Ramsay cut the rope from the barbel and started to roll it back under the tree. He put the gold bow back on the bar and peered over his shoulder. “I thought you weren’t coming this year.”

“My little brother’s birthday would have been three days ago.” Domeric sat up, rubbing his head. “Did you know about- did you know that?”

“Four days ago. It’s after midnight.” He quickly wound fishing line around his fist then began to pull the rope down off the rafter.

“How- how old would you be now?”

“Me?”

“Not you, bastard, MY brother.”

“I am your brother,” Ramsay said through clenched teeth.

Domeric groaned and leaned against the couch. “Ramsay.” His shoulder’s tensed hearing his name slurred. He dumped the rope, fishing line, and the branch he’d whittled into his decoy box. “Ramsay, come here a minute.”

“You’re drunk.”

“How long… how many years has it been? I can’t remember…”

“Uh, you’re mother died ten years ago so…” Ramsay looked up from his torn box with a malicious grin, “you were my age, actually. Do you think you looked a lot like me when father brought you to the hospital to say goodbye? Did you cry all over thermal pajamas like these ones? I’d hate to get this wet.”

Domeric swayed away, regarding Ramsay with steely eyes. He put an elbow on the couch cushion and started to lift himself. “Come here, Ramsay. Let me see you.” Ramsay pulled his box by one flap and hurried to the hallway. “RAMSAY!”

“Shut up!” he rasped over his shoulder and started to run with his empty box rattling against the tile behind him.

Darkness closed in around the hallway as he ran from the living room’s colored, blinking lights. He could make out the garage’s white door at the end and, as he got closer, a dark blur slowly turned into the knob. Freezing air fell onto him like an avalanche when he shoved the box inside. He slowly closed and locked the door then turned around to make sure the quiet hall was empty.

The plastic soles of his footy pajamas made tiny scraping noises against the cold tile. He stayed close to the wall and headed for the stairs. Now he’d have to lock his door and put a movie on, waiting to hear his father’s coffee pot before he could come out to open presents.

He hoped Domeric would make it upstairs before passing out. Father hated when Domeric behaved this way. He thought it was weak and undignified and when he cried for the mother he lost. Father would look at Ramsay shaking his head and ask, “Just what am I supposed to do with this?” Ramsay only offered a sympathetic and equally perplexed shrug. He knew each year Dom was falling apart a little more. One year he could suggest himself as a preferable alternative, but he didn’t know how yet, and Ramsay is very patient. He didn’t know what to do when they argued with each other at the dinner table until they were each spitting a word at a time just above a whisper. and Ramsay didn’t know what to do when a shadow overtook his periphery and Domeric’s long hard arms wrapped around him.

“Be very quiet or you’ll wake him,” he whispered. His breath brought no warmth to Ramsay’s neck. “You wouldn’t want that, would you? What if he sends you back to that shitty apartment? Let me look at your eyes.” Ramsay wrapped a hand around the cherry red switchblade in his fuzzy kangaroo pocket. “Just-just hush and be a nice boy.” Domeric pulled him up to his chest and pushed him into the wall. He swallowed and stared into Ramsay’s large thundering grey eyes. “How did you happen?” He wondered softly. “Every year you look more like him and less like a lie your whore mother told.”

Ramsay inhaled sharply and his bicep twitched, but he stilled himself and waited because Domeric had every physical advantage, and Ramsay is so patient. “Poor, Domeric. Every year you get more sloppy when you grieve. Is your mother the only person you loved?”

“Maybe,” Domeric looked away and his hold on Ramsay loosened. “I think if my brother would have lived, if he would’ve... I could have loved him at least.” Domeric sank into Ramsay and his viper chest started heaving.

Ramsay frowned. Please don’t puke on my new pajamas. “You must be so tired. Go lay down, Dom. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“You’re such a strange kid,” Domeric slurred into his chest. He looked up and found his father’s eyes in the soft little monster’s face. “Do you know what he does?” Domeric whispered and gulped. “Do you know how he made it so far… so… you… why does he say you’re ‘useful’, Ramsay? What the fuck does he make you do?”

“What does he make me do?”

“Shut up,” Domeric covered his mouth and held him close, staggering a bit before stomping upstairs. Ramsay tried to free his right arm but it was squeezed against his side. “Ah!” Domeric pulled his hand away and stopped a third of the way up the stairs. “You fucking rabid degenerate!”

He raised his hand but Ramsay stopped him, begging meekly with his favorite puppy eyes, “Wait! I’ll be nice and quiet. Just give me some of your drink. It helps me sleep.”

Domeric dropped Ramsay onto a step and grabbed the handrail to keep from falling back. “You’re coming with me.” He grabbed Ramsay by the wrist, yanking him down with each step he took. “You should be a nice- a nice boy, Ramsay. What will ... would happen when Father’s gunned down? Won’t you want me to love you then?”

“Will you really love me?” Ramsay asked in a pathetic voice, rolling his eyes in the dark. 

“Yeah,” Domeric whispered, “I’ll show you how to make me love you, then you won’t have to worry a-” Domeric released Ramsay’s wrist and looked back to see if what he felt was real. “My fucking shirt!”

Ramsay was already running upstairs while Domeric hugged the crimson gash in his arm to his chest. He stopped near the top and smiled, “Well, gee, I guess if you were orphaned I’d have to go back to that shitty apartment,” Domeric looked up and swayed into the railing, “and give my mummy the biggest, warmest hug, like I always do. She’d smother me with kisses because she misses me so much when I’m gone. It’s embarrassing really, but I’m glad we talk everyday. Oh…” Ramsay sucked air through his clenched teeth. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Well, you can talk to your mother’s headstone. Have you tried that? Fill your stomach with more vodka and go tell her Merry Christmas for me, it’s less than an hour away.”

Ramsay took two steps at a time as Domeric lurched forward with a growl that dissolved into crying. He would have stabbed anyone else until they were an unrecognizable gory pulp for calling him a bastard, for calling his angel of a mother a whore. But Domeric was their father's son and it was not yet the time or place. He decided to take his best dog, Di, to sleep in his room until Domeric went back to law school.

Ramsay could wait quietly. He could form and perfect a plan and see it through, just not the plan his counselors and teachers would want him to. When it came to things that mattered, he was so very patient.

 

He’d had a plan for Loras since he poked his pretty blond head out in Damon’s apartment.

 

“Just stay out of our trip together.” You better find out what the fuck I’m planning and stop it.

“It’s only two weeks…” I’m taking your friend. You’ll never see him again.

 

Steady and predictable Damon would never leave poor Alyn without a way to contact him. He was responsible enough to keep an organized folder of bills and stupid enough to keep the bill for his private landline sensibly filed away inside. It took less than ten minutes to find the address on the receipt and program the best directions into his phone’s GPS.

 

He’d waited in the at landing to the basement steps. His small, over-the-shoulder backpack made a decent cushion. The candle Loras left on Damon’s table flickered all night. Ramsay ran his finger over each one of the lovely knives tucked into the strap running across his chest while he played out different scenarios in his mind. Every noise Damon made painted a picture in the morning. He may as well been looking through a window when the front door shut at last.

 

 

“How the hell…” Loras’ shoulder pushed back as he turned the knob behind him.

“Oh, Loras,” Ramsay purred, “I have sooo much to give you.” He slipped a knife out and threw it with a reverberating slam into the door, just close enough to graze the edge of Loras’ ear.

“Shit!” Loras dropped to the ground instinctively and covered his ear with a trembling hand, half expecting it to be gone.

“This is my first gift for you,” Ramsay licked his lips and slipped another silver throwing knife from the strap, “wrath.”  Loras rolled away and tried to crawl up to running. “Nooo,” Ramsay’s twirling knife hit him right in the back of his knee and he cried out, falling onto the hard floor, “you can’t leave yet! You have so much to take for me and so much to give to me. I want your screams, your snotty, teary, stammering begging, I want you to die inside while you tell me how wonderful I am. I want you to break for me.”  He was buzzing, lighter than air. Only his hunger anchored him. Ramsay bounced a little as he walked over to Loras, twisting around to see his wound. “I wouldn’t…”

Loras pulled the knife out with one rough yank and screamed. “God, no!” he wailed.

“Oh, that is beautiful, really. Thank you.” Ramsay knelt by Loras his ecstatic eyes were twinkling. “It’s a nasty design isn’t it? Look. Look at it.” Loras pulled himself backwards to the wall, grunting and wheezing moans. He was shaking and sweating, leaving a bright red trail to follow. It was so gorgeous already that Ramsay had to laugh. “Don’t you want to see? I’m trying to share with you!” Loras slowly positioned his uninjured left leg underneath him. “It’s barbed, see? Look at the ragged edges, Loras. It’s not that accurate for long range throwing but, lucky for us, it’s a small cabin!”

Ramsay grinned and looked around so Loras would try running. “What a piece of shit. I guess he tried to make it nice… but isn’t the apartment I gave him much nicer?” When he turned back around Loras looked hilariously pale and teary-eyed. Caught propping himself up in a corner, his hands shot out below his sides to uselessly grip at the walls. “Push against it to steady yourself, moron,” Ramsay giggled. “Look, wait.” Ramsay jumped up and walked over.

“Don’t!” Loras tried to run before his mind could remind his body it wasn’t worth trying. Ramsay caught him as he fell forward.

“‘Don’t?’ Not, ‘please’ or ‘I’m sorry’?” He asked softly and pushed Loras back into the corner.

“Ramsay, we can figure something out-” he was cut off by a slap to the face that knocked his brow into the wall.

“Standup. I’m trying to show you something.”

Loras’ face hardened and he straightened himself, looking Ramsay in the eye without any pretense of apologies. Ramsay smirked and looked him up and down. He gently put his hands under Loras’ elbows and pushed them up until his hands were nearly parallel to his shoulders. “There. Now push against the walls to support yourself. There’s nothing to grip, you dumbshit. What?” Ramsay stood back and raised an eyebrow. “No, ‘Thank you, Ramsay?’”

Loras heaved and steadied himself. “What do I have to do for you not to kill me? Just tell me.”

Ramsay pursed his bottom lip. “That’s Damon’s shirt. It’s a fucking tent on you,” he snapped.

“He gave it-” Loras cried out and slammed into the corner when Ramsay brandished his ragged knife and pulled the shirt towards him. Loras covered his head with his forearms and sank while Ramsay sliced through the white cotton, over and and over until he tore the tattered remains off of Loras’ left arm, causing him to spin and drop facing the corner.

“‘Just tell me!’”Ramsay mimicked. “Like that’s any fucking fun for me. Aw, did you make Damon mad? I bet your stitches itch. Let’s cut them out.”

“No!” Loras scrambled away, trembling as he struggled to crawl.

“The point of the barbed blade with it’s pretty, jagged, edges is to inflict internal damage when it’s pulled out by some dumb twink; that’s you.”

“Fuck you, self-hating faggot,” Loras spit venomously. His heel kept slipping as he tried to push off of the wood floor.

“Self-hating?” A shocked and amused hand landed dramatically on Ramsay’s chest then he leaned back laughing. “Why the fuck would I hate me?! I’m the best fucking person I know!” He watched the way Loras’ muscles froze, tensed to burst and Ramsay’s eyes widened and dilated. “Run,” he exhaled. He looked into Loras’ face and beamed at the recoiling horror he found there. “I tell you what, Princess, I’ll closed my eyes and count to ten! Ready?”

“You’re fucking crazy…” Loras choked.

“Oh? Crazy am I?” Ramsay crept forward with wild eyes and a cartoonish grin. “I’m not trying to pushing backwards on a leg that won’t bend while I tread in my own blood. Well, I’m fucking crazy and all but, if I was you, sweetlips, I’d flip onto my stomach and use my forearms and crawl to that table to pull myself up then hobble out the front door, not backpedal to the fucking stairs like that’s going to do any good. Is your plan to make yourself an easier target to hit or, what? I mean, trying sparking a synapse or two for once.”

“How did you know I was-”

“Oh, good, no, please keep underestimating me. I mean, it’s worked out so well for you so far. Keep thinking I’m an insane, dumbshit, sheep-fucking, hillbilly. Patronize me some more,” Ramsay winked and grinned, “we’ll just see where it gets you.” His smile cooled and he waved his hand dismissively. “Alright, enough of that. I promise not to peek, ok?” He giggled and turned around. “One…”


	39. Bad Love

“Nine Mississippi…” Ramsay bit the inside of his cheek and inhaled sharply. “Ten. Ready or not,” turning around, he found the front door open, “here I come.”

Ramsay ran outside with light, bouncing strides. His quick, sharp eyes darted all around, finding splattered drops of blood and following their path over crumbling brown leaves. He stalked carefully with rolling steps in wet places. Ramsay heard a snap and dry crunch downhill to the east. His mouth watered around the painful words he could spit, but he was quiet. His fingers itched. Rust colored splotches hopped over leaves, weeds, roots and branches, leading Ramsay to a wide tree. Silently he crept around it, surveying the land, seeing possibilities. 

It’s an agony and relentless terror to be nothing in human form. And yet, when Ramsay hunts, being nothing is to be connected to everything; to be an animal in at home in nature’s tapestry. The swish and suck of mud told him Loras was staggering away from the treeline and it's crisp carpet of leaves and twigs. The earth’s slow downward slope, the brightness ahead of them and change of air told Ramsay they were heading towards water. Loras must think the opening would be a road, why else would he seek a clearing when being hunted? The cool, damp air welcomed his skin. His mind expanded, taking in the landscape. A rustle of leaves downhill said Loras was weak and stumbling. The continuous roll of gentle waters whispered to Ramsay that it was a dry river ahead.

He circled the wide tree and, indeed, found no Loras but only more splotches behind it, getting lost in the mud. A fat, sleepy sycamore with sturdy, bare branches asked him to come get a better view.

Loras struggled toward the hum of traffic looking for the highway to come into view. His dizzy head was floating away from his ice cold foot and throbbing knee when wet, pebbly clay came up and smacked his torso. He groaned and rolled on the damp ground, nausea contracting his hot stomach. The world shrank to just his cream white hand. He watched his manicured fingernails dig into the thick and grainy dark copper ground.

“You can’t die yet,” he heard somewhere above. “We haven’t even started!” Loras struggled to lift his head and clear caustic slime coughed out of him with a hot kick to his stomach. His head sank. His dry mouth clucked and groaned. Dark twirling stars danced over his porcelain hand.

Ramsay bent down and saw the black wound spray a little red gieser in a steady beat. “MOTHERFUCKER!” He slammed his fist into his palm and stamped the ground. “I am so fucking GOOD! GOD DAMN I am the greatest! I am so fucking pretty.” Ramsay punched the cold clear air then swung his backpack around to his chest, bobbing his shoulders in time with Loras’ erupting wound. “I hit your popliteal artery in one fucking shot! Oh, Loras, I’m so mean I make medicine sick.” He unzipped his back and kicked at Loras’ unresponsive shin. “Get it? No? Damon will get it.”

Ramsay knelt and hummed a song to himself as he grabbed the wide elastic of Loras’ pajama and boxer waistbands. “Like opening a present.” Loras slurred some kind fuck you. “Still with me then?” Ramsay bit back an eager grin and slid the thin cotton up over his paling golden ass then down his muscular thighs. They clung a little at his wound, but it was so wet it came off easily enough.  He poured water over the wound and pushed gauze into it. After he finished wrapping the gauze tightly, he flipped Loras over to look at him. “Ha ha! Cold?”

Ramsay looked up towards the cabin and back down at Loras. “Just had to go downhill, huh? How can you bare the anticipation?” He rolled Loras back onto his stomach and stood to approach his head. He ran his arms under Loras’ shoulders and hooked his elbows under Lora’s cold armpits. He could feel a weak but steady pulse. Ramsay slowly pulled Loras up to standing and put his right leg between Loras’. He looked Loras in the eyes with a too-wide . “Hey, Princess,” he waggled his eyebrows, “did you miss me?”

Loras burped and gagged. “Ughnn, nnn, naa, na-na…”

“‘No, no, no, no?’ I know, that’s what they all say. Listen, because this is important; if you wretch all over my back, I’ll use your bile for lube when I fuck you in Damon’s bed.”

“Ffff,” Loras pulled a shoulder back and tried to fling his fist at Ramsay but he couldn’t even see straight. “Ungh!” The world reeled and going red then black.

“Woa!” Ramsay laughed and ducked down to hoist Loras’ wet torso over his broad shoulders. “Keep fighting. You’re getting me hot.”

“Fuck,” Loras rasped, panting “you, psy-cho.”

Ramsay giggled and started back uphill to the cabin. “You’re so light. Mourning diet? Huh? Loras? Hey! When did you stop shivering? Loras?”

 

“Loras? Wake up.”

He heard soft sheets slide over one another. His body was warmed by smooth flesh pressing lightly down on his.  “Ha,” fell sluggish and muddled from his numb mouth. A tear streaked down his face, dropping into his ear. “You feel so real.”

“Open your eyes.” The words buzzed in his ear, light and dreamy.

They were glossy and unfocused but, as he blinked, he could make out the white bed and dimly lit room around them. Renly kissed his nipple. Loras tried to lift his head and saw the short dark brown hair he longed to touch, grazing across his chest. “I can’t move. Is this it?”

“No.” Renly looked up with artic grey eyes. “You’re not dying, shithead.”

Loras tried to jump up but went nowhere. Blurs spun around him, rainbows sparkled, turning white and disappearing. He tried to hit with his right wrist then his left. He fell back onto something soft and cried out, “What the fuck is happening?!”

“That’s good,” Ramsay purred. “Keep screaming for me. I think I’ve decided to stab you to death, right here, and leave the mess for Damon. How do you think he’d like that?”

“Don’t!” Loras heard himself scream as he struggled, writhing uselessly.

“We have plenty of time and so much to share before the fun has to end.” Ramsay licked his nipple slowly and looked up with wide bright eyes, laughing silently. “Think I can bite it off? Maybe if you beg me, I won’t tear it off and eat it in front of you.”

“Is this because I…” Loras swallowed and whispered something.

“What?” Ramsay frowned and leaned in closer. “Because you what?”

Loras was shaking and whispered dryly, “Because I ...?”

“What the fuck did you say?” Ramsay put his nose to Loras and stared into his eyes.

Loras pushed his head back into the pillow and headbutted the bridge of Ramsay’s nose as hard as he could. “DAMON!”

Ramsay giggled and grabbed his nose, sitting up on Loras’ stomach. “You want to cut to the good part? Ok.” Ramsay tore a condom wrapper open with his teeth. “Can’t dirty my baby with whatever AIDS super complex you’ve developed in your gaping, prolapsed petri dish of an asshole.

“Fuck you!” Loras tried to kick out. His chest started heaving and he heard himself whine in despair and wretched frustration. “Don’t!” His thighs started shaking. “Please!”

“Don’t? You don’t want me to?” Ramsay sneered more than smiled, rolling the condom down his hot hard cock. “I didn’t want you to destroy the family I made. I didn’t want you to treat my sensitive buddy like a disposable animal. I didn’t want you to take my best friend from me. I didn’t want you to tormenting my Theon’s broken head.”

“I’m sorry…”

“You’ve undone years of hard work.” Ramsay’s face split with a hysterical cackle. “I didn’t even know you when I found you stalking my friend and yet, just a few weeks later I’m trying to figure out how to put my life back together because of you” He lubed up the condom, biting down on his front teeth and thrusting into his tight fist. “It’s a pretty good joke, you fucking lacrosse playing, country club bubbly WASP cunt.”

“Ok, ok, I see. I’m sorry. I’ll fix it.” Loras’ voice climbed higher until it cracked. “Please don’t do-”

“I didn’t want you to use my fucking sunshine against me.”

Loras screamed and stiffened, quaking, afraid to breath. “Please, I’m sorry-I’msorry.”

 

Ramsay exhaled, rolling his head back. “Ah ha, that’s good but I need more.” He slipped a knife off the white bed cover. “So much more. She adored me.” Ramsay could hardly hear himself over Loras screaming for him to stop. He licked at the blood that sprayed the corner of his mouth and kept thrusting and slicing. “She fucking worshipped me! I was her friend and she LOVED ME.” Ramsay threw his knife into the wall and fell forward onto his hands.

For a moment everything stopped. Loras stared at the blurry ceiling, whispering, “Please” like a skipping record.

“Huh,” Ramsay coughed. He looked around the room in a melancholy daze until he found Loras looking back at him. “Maybe I do blame myself.”

“It’s ok. It’s not your fault.” He spoke slowly and softly through chattering teeth. “You want to untie me? We can talk.”

“Maybe if I didn’t push Damon so hard all the time, he wouldn’t have sent her away. It’s like, I just try to hold people but the tighter I squeeze, the faster they shoot out of my hands… or break in them.” His eyes widened and he looked over his shoulder then down at the bright red streaking across Loras’ chest. “What am I doing?”

“It’s ok, really. Please, just…”

“What am I doing to Theon?”

“PLEASE pull out of me!” Loras arms flexed against the rope binding him.

“Oh, yeah,” Ramsay swallowed and shook his head. “It's just, you feel so good now that you relaxed a little.”

“Oh god,” Loras closed his eyes and tears came streaming out. “Oh my god.”

“I didn’t think a slut like you would be such a vice on my dick, you must be stressed. That’s much better.” Loras groaned then cried out, gritting his teeth. “It’s ok if you fall in love a little, happens a lot.”

 

“Sit up straight.”

Theon peered over at Roose and straightened himself. The eggs on his plate looked to heavy and tasteless. He poked at a strawberry and tried to shove it past his mouth. It was all so pointless. He was exhausted.”

“We’ll have to dress you in something better than that,” Roose stated.

“Oh.” Theon looked down at himself and blushed. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, Ramsay…”

“I know it isn’t your fault. We’ll have to find a tailor who can come over. I’m going to an important meeting this afternoon. You will be coming with me. Stop that." Theon looked up, nearly dropping his fork. "You're making circles in your food when you should be eating it."

"Was I?" Theon rubbed his forehead and put more food in his mouth. "What do I need to do?"

"I just want you to meet someone." Roose smiled to himself with a slight pull at the corner of his mouth.

Theon looked for snow in the clear sky.


	40. Never Ever Believed in Me

The tailor came with a marionette of a woman to assist him. She had grey and lavender hair cut at severe angles and brought a trays of finger foods, a box of hot coffee, and cold bottles of water. Rustic looking old fashioned suitcases were wheeled in and popped open. Compartments folded out. The sleek tailor all in black buzzed merrily, working at dizzy pace. Theon couldn’t keep up with his questions, but it didn’t matter; he wasn’t asking Theon.

“You’ll have a snack.” Roose muttered. Looking bored and quietly miserable.

The lavender-haired woman offered a tray. Her smile was pulled wide and her eyes pleaded. “Try an apple or honey almond.”

As he ate, several articles of clothing were laid out. Roose would either wave them away  or give a slight nod. Theon gasped when the tailor touched the back of one shoulder and rolled his tape to the other.

“Could you try to be still?” he asked with strained politeness. His speed was a blessing. Theon just closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, but he still felt intense and immediate doom closing in on him. His chest was so tight. The man gently took his wrist, moving his arm straight out to his side. _don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me…_ “All done! The man popped up looking at marked paper on his forearm. “The pants and jacket will need to be taken in.”

Roose pulled his chin off his fist and looked over, raising an eyebrow. “By how much?”

 

They didn’t look like his feet in shiny pointed black leather.  He’d only worn suits to funerals. He went to loosen his tie, but his hand fell away when he remembered he wasn’t wearing one. He rubbed his forehead and studied his neck. His shirt collar was stiff and high. The pomade left in the guest bathroom for him smelled like vanilla and coconut. Theon laughed, he looked so fucking handsome. He washed his hands then swung around to sit on the counter, gripping the sides. Suddenly, he couldn’t catch his breath. He hadn’t lied like this in so long. He wasn’t supposed to.

 

“Theon?” Roose came in and looked him over.

He hopped off and stopped the water. “I’m ready.”

“Very good.” Roose handed him a water bottle. “Have this in you by the time we get there.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We won’t be hungry or thirsty when we arrive.”

“No, sir.”

Roose nodded and came closer. “I want you to stay within my sight. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He held the bathroom door open and motioned for Theon to leave through it. “Alyn and Locke will be joining us before they head out if you’d like to ride with Alyn.”

“Thank you, but... the suit…”

“He’s taking a little sedan he hasn’t spent enough time into ruin. It should be fine.” Theon smirked then cleared his throat and headed into the hallway. “Theon.”

He stopped, stabbed by the cold sound of his name. He turned slightly. Roose waited, tilting his head. “Yes, sir?”

“I didn’t mean for you to leave just yet.” Roose started walking down his hallway. “Follow me.” They walked through his office and up the spiral stairs to his master suite. “I’m taking you to meet your uncle.”

“Umph,” Theon put his hand on his stomach. “Uncle?”

“Mmm,” he agreed gravely. Roose unlocked his bedroom door and waved Theon in. “Please sit.”  

 

The little lost boy was swooning though he did his best to appear stoically nonchalant. Apparently, his acting worked on most people, or did once. His eyes swept the room before he took the chair closest to the exit. His shoulders jumped up and squeezed when Roose shut the door.

“Euron Greyjoy has been interested reconnecting with his estranged family ever since just before your wealthy father passed.” Roose tried not to laugh. “Your uncle Aeron disappeared not too long after meeting with him.”

“What do I have to do with them?” Theon whispered defensively. Roose turned around, and snapped the wristband of his watch into place. Theon was bent, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Are you going to be ill?”

Theon peered up, blinking. “Please, I swear… I’m not…” he lowered his head again.

Roose snorted. “Of course you aren’t like them. Don’t insult my perspicacity.” To think of Ramsay’s fragile, skittish toy left on alone on a remote chain of islands to negotiate with drug lords, human traffickers, international cartels, arms dealers, and terrorists. Almost a sweet, if ridiculous, juxtaposition.

“Oh, no. No, I-I understand that you’re an exceptionally shrewd man. I… I just know… my father, my family I mean...” Roose raised his eyebrows. _Yes, yes, go on Ned and Cat…_ It annoyed Roose that his bastard son had made a quick mind so dull and hesitant when world is swarming with crowds of stumbling useless idiots as it is. “Mr. Stark really wanted me to remember-”

Roose slid a flat ruby through the slit on his cuff and pulled it up with a sigh. “Theon, try to think objectively. Am I Ned Stark?”

He pursed his lips to stop a smile. “No, sir.”

“I know _exactly_ who your family is. I also know who I am and who you are.”

“I, but I just was always supposed to remember-”

“‘Mais le souvenir n'est qu'une souffrance nouvelle.’ Ne c’est pas?”

Theon’s head popped up from between his knees. He grinned and shrugged. “Oui, c’est vrai.” _My memories are nothing but fresh suffering,_ Theon mused _._

“Are you a Buddhist?”

Theon laughed. “No, though I do accept the first noble truth.” 

Roose smiled and Theon blushed, looking very much like a child eating candy before dinner. Roose plucked the matching ruby cuff link from its velvet-lined drawer. In Theon’s place, Ramsay would be throwing things by now. Fuck him and fuck you! I’m not going! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME! Roose smirked, pulling the chain up through a white hole. “Get my jacket for me.”

Theon held it out at arm’s length. “What does he say he wants?”

“Oh, to rescue his poor nephew and take him home,” Roose said in a flat yet ironic tone. His right arm glided into its sleeve, then his left.

“What do you think he really wants? For me to sign some of my rights over?”

Roose approached his floor length mirror and made his adjustments. “I don’t want you to eat or drink anything at this meeting. Understand?”

“Oh.” Theon stepped back and wrapped his arms around his chest.

“Stand up straight.”

He pursed his mouth to one side and put his hands in his pockets, pretending to look around the room. “What do you think I should do? Um, if I could ask…”

“Asking my advice is the _best_ thing you can do.” Roose straightened his tie and looked at Theon through the mirror. “There are no rights you can sign over, unfortunately. It’s not a legal business you ‘inherited’. He only needs to understand that you’re no threat to him and he will not be using you to get your mother’s fortune when she passes.”

Theon furrowed his brow. “But, I’ll be eighteen soon and I have an older sister.”

“Asha disappeared years ago. In fact, your uncle Euron may have been the last person to see her.”

“Greyjoys do have a propensity for coming back from the dead,” Theon seemed to hope to himself.

“Mmm. I suppose you’re no exception. Theon, I wouldn’t expect your uncle to be frank or forthcoming. Use your caution and insight.”

Theon sighed and dropped his eyes. _Tired already?_ He could have enjoyed the manipulation and sparing once. “You’re more intelligent than he is. You get that from your mother’s side.”

“Did…” he shattered and opened, his insides exposed and raw, “did you… do you remember my mother?”

“Yes, Alannys.” Theon’s tongue rolled over the name in his silent mouth. “She was exceptionally bright and sensitive before she became ill.” _Bright as her brother, mad as her sister, and as reticent as any Harlaw._ “Though she was quiet, she had a gift for language like yourself.”

Theon reeled from another hit. “Like me?”

“Yes. You were her baby; not just her youngest, but the most like herself. It’s a shame what your father did to you both.” Theon grabbed his heart and the chair next to him. He was a breath away from falling on his knees. Roose ran his tongue across his teeth and walked over to Theon. He lifted the boy’s chin and felt him swallow. “I won’t let this man hurt you. This is your home and we are your family.” Theon’s eyes blossomed and he sank, shivering. Roose smiled gently. If only he could show Ramsay how easy this was.

 

“You alright?”

Theon fell into the passenger seat and shut his door. He nodded, staring through the windshield.

Alyn put Ministry in the cd player and hoped Theon liked their old stuff. He probably did; that’s when they were really whiny.

 

“Theon.”

“Mmmnnng.”

“Theon, wake up. We’re here.”

He sat up and rubbed his face. “What is this?” They were somewhere downtown, it looked like the theatre district.

Locke appeared in the window and opened his car door. “Come on.”

 

Someone swept silently into the marble lobby to take their jackets, another brought a tray of wine and ice water, another glided past them, leading them through draped columns. A string quartet was playing Dance of the Knights.

“Why are you pushing into me?” Alyn whispered.

“Sorry.” Theon went to pull at his tie again, but it wasn’t a tie. He clutched his throat again and tried to breath. It felt so fucking tight.

 

“Oh, because you’re scared. Is that why?”

“ _Shut up_.”

“What? Is that why? Are you embarrassed because you’re scared?”

“Shut up!”

“You probably should be. This guy is fucking crazy.”

Theon bit back a scream. “ _ALYN_.”

“What?” Theon turned around to shut him up but stopped. “Keep moving,” Alyn barked, shoving him.

“We’re being followed.”

Alyn stopped and swung around. “No, man, those are Bolton guys. The guns are to protect you.”

“Alyn.”

“What?”

“SHUT UP.”

“ _Theon_ ,” Roose said quietly.

Theon lowered his head. Alyn walked in front of him so Mr. Bolton wouldn’t scare him so bad.

 

A handsome man stood as soon as they walked in. There was only three empty tables, a guard in a black suit and the pale man with an eager grin. He looked like a rock star with his black hair and clothes and his smiling David Bowie eyes. Suddenly Theon remembered him. He couldn’t remember anything specific, but he knew this man and his stomach sank.

The guard turned Alyn without a word and began to lift his arms but he was on the floor before he could start. Euron laughed. Roose sighed. “My men are carrying; it seemed a reasonable precaution.”

“Hello, old Roose.” Euron offered his hand flashing a wild grin. Roose regarded his gesture, unimpressed and kept his hands in his pockets. Euron waved them to the table instead. “Sit, sit, sit.” He walked up to Alyn and looked him over. “Hello, hello.”

Roose sat, rolling his eyes. “You said this wouldn’t take long?” He looked around the room and softly uttered, “Sit.”

Theon slunk over to sit by Roose. The guards sat at the table behind theirs. Alyn stared Euron down then shoved his shoulder to walk past. Euron chuckled and Theon shivered. “What’s wrong? You don’t look happy to see me.”

“Fuck off you giddy cunt.”

The crow’s feet deepened around his black eye, though his clear blue eye seemed to do the smiling. He paced behind his table staring Alyn down as though he was the main course. “Let’s talk about what you want.”

“I want you to leave Theon alone.”

“You… what?”

“Alyn,” Roose spoke calmly, with the slightest laugh pulling the corner of his mouth, “I told you to sit down.”

Alyn frowned, dropping himself in a chair where he could watch Euron, and crossed his arms. Euron searched the room looking confused.

Theon snickered and wiped his mouth to hide his smile. Euron recognized him then. He was always smiling as a child. “Oh, you look so much like your poor mother.”

“Hello, Uncle Euron.”

“You look nothing like Balon.” Theon stuck his thumb into his fist and clasped his hands. “You were never anything like him or your brothers. You like to have a good time, like me.” Euron knelt before him with a shining smile his face could hardly contain. “You like wine and women, boy? I heard you can’t keep one out of you and yourself out of the other, eh?” He slapped Theon’s knee. “I heard about your ordeal with that crazy Stark boy. There’s a feud between our families that goes back beyond memory, did they tell you that?”

Theon smirked but his eyes were dull. “Only always.”

“Ha!” Euron jumped up and bellowed out, “bring the food in.”

“That’s not necessary,” Roose said coldly. “I told you, we won’t stay long.”

“You can leave whenever you’d like, old Roose." Euron said with quick wink at Theon. "Take your men with you. No one’s a prisoner here.”

“Someone is.”

Euron stopped smiling a moment and scanned the room. “Weren’t you offered drinks? What would you like?”

“You know this is really Theon and he’s very much alive. I think we’re done.” Roose pushed his chair back.

Euron’s hand flashed to his hip and flew out to point a gun at Alyn’s face. “I’m not.”

“Don’t!” Theon jumped up to block Alyn. He turned to look at Roose who leaned back in his chair and tilted his head.

Everyone seemed to hold their breath waiting for Roose to move, but he was just sitting there with his empty hands folded.

“Sit down, Theon,” he said softly.

“Yes, sir.” Theon folded into the chair next to old Roose. Still, humourless Roose. He should have been a fucking tree.

Euron put his gun away. Eyeing a broad man who seemed to be laughing at him. “Have you ever seen a Western? You want to see who’s the faster draw?”

Locke idly spun some foreign coin on the table with an indulgent smile.

“Euron,” Roose called patiently, “what else did you want?”

“Some privacy.”

“No.”

Staff had drifted in on some ethereal track with platters of food. Euron knelt by Theon again. His mismatched eyes danced happily. “Have some fish and rum with me.”

Theon looked to Roose then at the thumb circling his palm. “No, thank you.”

 

Euron stood and paced. “He’s your prisoner then? That’s what you meant. What did he tell you? I’m after your mother’s money?” Euron shook his head. “It’s all my fault and I wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I wanted to fix things.”

Roose rolled his eyes. “How long is this bit of theater going to take?”

Euron poured himself a drink and waltzed back to Theon. “Why do you think Balon hated you so much? You know why the Stark’s did; you weren’t theirs.” Roose tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. His icy eyes bore through Euron who raced on speaking with great feeling. “Do you know when he started beating your mother? I bet your brothers told you.”

“Stop,” Theon closed his eyes, trying to push pictures and words away.

“The day you started smiling.”

“Shut up.”

“Look how dark your hair is getting. Except,” Euron leaned in and brushed his hair away from his temple. “There. Grey streaks. That’s what Balon did to your mother. Who’s doing it to you?” Theon gasped and pushed back, knocking his chair over. “I couldn’t take you from Balon. I tried that with my daughter and Victorian killed her and her mother both.”

“His wife?” Theon pulled himself up to sitting, but felt too dizzy to stand. “What are you saying?”

“You never found where you fit because you’ve been fostered all your life. You belong with me. How would you like to come sail with me? Get all the pussy and booze you could ever stand while you see the world. Isn't that all you’ve ever wanted?”

“How could you know...”

“Isn’t it obvious? Because _you’re just like me_.”

“But, Mr. Stark always said-”

“You’re not a Stark. Of course he tried to turn you against me. He wouldn’t let me near you. He wouldn’t let you keep the car I gave you.”

“That was from you?” Theon squinted and rubbed his head. “No, he told me…”

“That It was from your Uncle, didn’t he? Why would he care if it was from a fucking Harlaw? Because their might be books weighing the truck down?” Euron laughed and sat on the floor. “No! Because you’d lock yourself in it and never come out!” He cackled at Theon’s pained expression.

Theon started laughing too. “You never loved my mother.”

Euron shrugged off being caught. “I loved fucking her.” A chair scraped the floor as Alyn stood. “Look, is this what you want? To be a prisoner for the rest of your life? Hasn’t it been long enough? You only have two bloodlines in you and there’s not a drop of Stark or Bolton. Do you want to locked away like a mad Harlaw or do you want to take what you want from life like a _real_ Greyjoy?” Euron offered his hand. There was a strange ring on his middle finger.

Theon closed his eyes and tried to take the few seconds he had to put things back together.


	41. I Didn't Go Far

“What did you bring me out here to tell me? That Uncle Vic killed his pregnant wife? That my father hated me?” Though he sat on the floor, one hand tentatively reaching to pull him back away, Theon’s voice was cold and hard as the mountain he’d been living on. “I didn’t forget how fucked up the Greyjoys are, I just don’t give a shit.” Another chair slid on the floor behind him.

Euron kept his hand extended. His charming smile sold poison. He belonged on a bright screen in a dark room, just like the lie in the mirror this morning. “Now that Balon is gone, we can start over. I want you to come with me to see your mother. It would make her so happy.”

“What are you talking about?”

Roose’s cool finger slid along the table. “Theon, do you think either you or I can trust this man to keep his word?”

Theon didn’t want to say what his stomach burned into his mind. “No. He’s a very good liar.”

Euron’s mismatched eyes danced. “No one can tell when I’m lying. You only know because you do the same with _my_ grin on your face.”

Theon shook his head, not understanding. Not wanting to.

“Take my hand, Theon.” His left hand drifted across his stomach towards the gun on his hip. “Come home with me, Theon. Just take my hand.” His hand rested on the hilt of his gun. “ _You’re mine._ ”

Roose knelt behind him. “No,” he tore Theon’s shirt collar and smiled at Euron, “he’s not.”

Theon cringed. The pyre of his heart sank in cold, black waters.

“Heh," Euron laughed nervously and backed up. “What is that?”

The instant Euron’s left hand dropped away from his weapon, Roose made a swift, precise motion and Euron fell, rolling on his back and clutching his face.

Alyn untucked the back of his shirt and drew a gun from his shoulder blade. A pop pierced the air and Euron’s guard fell from his chair.

“I win,” Locke said. He twirled his gun in his palm and sneered like Clint Eastwood.

Euron lurched forward and pulled a butter knife from his bloody eye. “FUCK YOU!” He pulled his gun and aimed it a little left of Alyn’s head, which Alyn found impressive enough to warrant sending a bullet through his ivory wrist. Euron’s gun clattered to the floor. His body seemed to wrap around his wounds as his screams rose and fell, over and over.

 

Theon found himself backing away.

 

It was Maron. It was Maron on the stairs. I heard him screaming just like that.

Don’t forget.

It was Maron on the stairs.

Don’t forget again.

 

“HELP ME, YOU FUCKING TWATS!” Euron cried backing into a corner. Tremors kept running through him.

“I’m sure help is coming.” Roose dryly assured him.

“How can we tell who’s with Euron?” Alyn asked.

“You can’t.” Roose watched Euron’s writhing with some amusement. “Kill them all.”

More shots popped and echoed. They seemed to come from everywhere at once. Roose strode through the chaos on a crisp breeze to study Euron’s blood-drenched face. “Oh, Mr. Greyjoy, you seemed to have pricked yourself when your hand reflexively covered your wounded eye.” Roose pushed hair away to examine to the small puncture on his brow.

Euron snapped at Roose’s hand, which sailed away easily. “You fucking lifeless husk,” he rasped and hacked.

Roose picked a cloth napkin from a table and wiped the spit off his hand. “Do you have an antidote on you?”

Euron reached for his gun with his left hand but another gun shot popped and echoed as his left shoulder jerked back.

Shots popped one then another, further away now. There was no rhythm or pattern to them. They sounded just like a firecrackers, he remembered that now. Images and fell and bounced like hail. He was in between times and places, lost, trying to grip the rug beneath him as the world spun.

Roose leaned against a table and started typing into his phone. “Do you have an antidote on you or not?” Euron, screaming, seemed to hear somehow and shook his head. Roose sighed. “Of course not. What if you made a fist or swatted a fly on your leg?” Roose turned to Theon and extended his hand towards the boy’s dying uncle. “Do you see what would become of Ramsay if I hadn’t intervened? No foresight, no discipline, no strategy, just a rabid lunatic. I’m amazed he’d lived _this_ long.”

Theon nodded solemnly. It didn’t really matter, none of this was real. Theon was halfway under his bed holding the squid Asha had given him and trying so so hard to stop crying or else the bad guys would find him. The hall light flicked on, he could see it at the bottom of the doorframe… yet, he was also halfway on the floor, watching Roose and spinning. He was gripping his chest.

Alyn walked back in with unusually bright eyes. “The building is clear.”

“Well done. Without an antidote in reach, I suppose we have nothing to say to each other."

“Wait! Roose, I know you lost a child, he was about the age Theon is now-”

“Yes.”

“I only wanted a chance to know the son I lost. Ah,” Euron shudders rocked him harder, making his teeth chatter.

“I heard he likes to take tongues, Locke. Why don’t you take his?”

Locke stood with a creeping grin, but before his blade could dive into Euron’s hot flesh, he started convulsing violently against the floor. His mouth foamed and his eyes rolled.

Theon slowly rose with his back to a stone pillar. Roose glanced towards him with a pinched smile and Ramsay’s wicked eyes, “I guess he knew something about you.” Unlike Ramsay, Roose didn’t wait for Theon to think it was funny. “Do what you want with him, just watch the ring on his middle finger.”

“We’ll just have to lose that busted hand and its pointy iron ring,” Locke decided.

“We’re done here.” Roose informed his men. Alyn slid his gun up behind his back. “Take Theon out.”

 

“You put up a good fight. That was a nice surprise.” Ramsay sat wiping his blade at the foot of the bed Damon shouldn’t have in the cabin he’d kept secret. “I don’t have time to break you, so I guess…” his head fell just to the side, thoughtfully. “Damon will hate me. We could have been friends, you know, you and I.” He shrugged and put the last throwing knife back in it’s slot across his chest.

“Don’t kill me,” Loras moaned with a dry, quivering voice that couldn’t belong to him.

“I have to.”

“Or,” Ramsay peered over at him, “you could let me kill myself after Stannis dies. Damon won’t hate you, your father’s work will be done, and you won’t have to lie to Theon. You’ve had your revenge, and I still won’t be a problem for you.”

Ramsay stood to pace. “That would be great if I could trust you.”

“I don’t want to live,” Loras choked and turned his head away. A chilling sleep was overtaking him. “I think I’m dying now. I’m not afraid. I just want to kill Stannis before… you can understand, can’t you? You love Theon; I see that now, I swear. I love Renly. I want revenge and then I only want peace. Wouldn’t you feel the same in my shoes? I know you would. Please.”

Ramsay smiled at the window. “What was that?”

“Please, Ramsay. Please. I’m sorry for everything.”

“Well…” Ramsay spun on his heel and wandered back to the bed where Loras lay bound and wounded. “Alright, just for you, ‘cause we’re friends. I’ll leave. Tell Damon the attack was just a warning. He has to come home to me.”

Loras swallowed. “I will.”

“I don’t even care if you kill yourself, just don’t come anywhere near my family again.” Ramsay sat next to Loras and leaned over to show him a photo on his phone. “If you do, I’ll get real close to _your_ family.”

Loras squinted then dropped his miserable head. “You found my sister?”

“Yeah!” Ramsay started cutting the duct tape from the bedposts. “It’s only fair and anyway, I think she really likes me. How long do you think _that_ would last?”

“Ok.”

“Do you think she’s a better lay than you?”

“Ok, Ramsay. Please, _please_ , leave Margaery alone.”

“Tits for tat, Loras. You keep your word and I’ll have no fucking use for her.” He freed Loras last bound limb with a quick rip of tape. Loras didn’t flinch. Ramsay helped him to drink some water, put his feet up on pillows and covered him with blankets. “Bye-bye, Princess. Don’t die from shock. You have another second chance to fuck up.”

 

Ramsay shut the bedroom door then headed downstairs to call Damon from the cabin’s landline.

“What’s up?” Ramsay shook out his hand and closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath. “Loras?”

“Guess again,” he said in a small, flat tone. He remembered the way Luton sounded on the phone at 3am, like he was half dead already _. I can’t do it anymore._

“Ramsay?" his tight voice went up an octave. He spoke slowly and carefully. “What… what did you do?”

“I just want you to come home.” He sniffed like Luton used to. “It’s too late, isn’t it?”

“Is it? Where’s Loras? Is he-”

“Not yet.”

“Oh,” Ramsay heard Damon break as clear as a twig snapping. “Please, _please_ don’t.”

"I have to."

“I swear to fucking God, Ramsay. I’ll come back. I was always going to come back.” Damon paused but Ramsay just waited. He wondered if he could a burger on his way back without going too far out of his way. “I don’t have anything or anyone else, ok? Loras is leaving after the hit. I swear I’ll let him. I will let him go and forget I ever met him. I want you to take me back, ok? I … I was never…”

“How do I know you won’t just leave with him? Fly to Argentina or move in with your fucking bio dad.” Ramsay wanted to stab that fucking asshole until his eyes went blank and he shit himself, but what if he looked like Damon? He found himself grinding his teeth. “I’m trying real fucking hard here but I need this.”

“You owe me.”

“What?” There was a McDonalds only ten minutes out of his way, but he hated McDonalds… but he was starving…

“I saved your boy twice, you remember?”

“The stairs don’t really count,” Ramsay murmured.

“The mall?”

“Alright. Yeah. Ok. Fuck!” Ramsay panted, like he was really struggling to battle his demons. “I’ll walk away _just for you_ , Damie but, only this once. After the deer is slaughtered you come home… and… we’ll be good?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I swear it.” Damon gasped. “Thank you.”

Ramsay glanced upstairs and bit his lip. “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, _what_?”

 

Ramsay hummed to himself as he treked through the woods back to his car. The nearest road to Damon’s was a two and half mile hike downhill but he was in the mood for it. After half an hour, when he’d nearly arrived at Tansy, his cell phone got reception and buzzed to tell him he had a missed call and had a new voicemail.

 

“Ramsay, I expected you home last night. Theon’s uncle wants to take him off my hands. Call immediately, or we’ll go on to meet him in the theatre district this afternoon.”Kvetching, ,,

“Shit!” Ramsay found himself punching a tree trunk. He looked at his fist as bark particles crumbled off and white skin turned red on his knuckles. “FUCK!”

 

He slammed the door and started the car with his phone squeezed between his ear and shoulder.

“Hello, Ramsay.”

“Don’t! I’m already on my way! I’ll be home in half an hour!”

“Really? Damon’s cabin is at least two hours away.” Ramsay slammed on the brake. He couldn’t keep a growl from escaping his clenched teeth as he violently shook the steering wheel. “Honestly, Ramsay, who do you think holds the mortgage? A teenage boy? His,” Roose snorted, “mother?”

That was a little funny- _not now_! Ramsay slammed his fist into his console, cringed and hit the gas. “I’ll be there.”

“We’re already driving to The Gemini. It’s closed for renovation, but I think you’ll find your way in. You may want to kill anyone who can’t beg you not to instead of killing Loras.”

“I didn’t! I won’t kill Loras, I promise.”

“I promise, _what_?”

Ramsay sneered and swallowed. “I promise, _Father_.” He smirked bitterly. “Just for you.”

“Don’t drive if you’re until you’re calm, Ramsay. You overestimate yourself when you’re upset. I don’t-”

“OK BYE, ROOSE.” Ramsay winced and rolled down his window. He stopped himself from throwing his phone away with some effort. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He dropped the phone on the seat next to him in case Reek had to call.

 

FATHER CALLING.

  
“Ugh!” He swatted the phone onto the floormat and rubbed his head. He could feel Reek shaking far away from him and blared his horn, swerving around a Hummer.

_It’s just for you, you fucking idiot._


	42. Landslide

He was running. He couldn’t stop, but watched pillars flash by and heard the thick soles of his new shiny shoes smacking against the shiny floor. He saw the door and flew towards it. A burst of cold wind hit him as he broke through and he stopped a moment, staring up into the sky. It was snowing.

He walked slowly down the sidewalk and stopped by a tree. It had been a brown system of streams feeding into brooks, into creeks, into a river when they’d passed it coming in. Now it was black and fattened by a thick white outline. He weaved his fingers through one another on top of his hair and closed his eyes, dazed but calmer. Something cold and wet landed on his hand and he pulled it off his head. It was little clump of snow between his knuckles and wrist. He remembered.

 

He was sitting in the garden on a cool stone bench when something tickled the top of his hand. “Hello.” He lifted it to his face and watched the white fur roll as the tiny rows of feet marched across his skin. “Did you come to see me?”

“REEK!” The sliding door slammed shut.

He looked up towards the porch with startled eyes, already pleading. “What?”

Ramsay came stomping towards him. “How the exactly did you get out here?”

“Locke let me out. Is-isn’t that ok?”

“You didn’t ask,” Ramsay stopped bumping into Reek’s shoulder.

“Well, yeah, but he asked me if I wanted to go out. I didn’t sneak. I promise.”

Ramsay lifted an eyebrow. “He did, huh?” Ramsay grabbed him by the hair and bent his head back so he was paying attention. “You ask me before you go outside.”

His heart sank. “Even the backyard?”

“That’s right, puppy, the backyard is outside.” Ramsay released his hair and sat on bench beside him. “What the fuck are you doing anyway?”

Theon lifted his hand. “I found a fuzzy caterpillar.”

“You fucking idiot!” He grabbed Reek’s wrist and flung it, sending the white fluff flying into the garden below.

“No!” Ramsay lifted his boot. “Please don’t-” But Ramsay smashed the thing and ground it into the rocks. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s poisonous!”

“So?”

Ramsay slapped his face. He grabbed the bench to keep from toppling over. “Did you know it was poisonous?”

“I mean, I thought he might be but he wouldn’t really hurt me.”

“Of course it would! It’s poisonous! That's what it is, that's what is does! Why would you expect anything else?!”

“I don’t know. He came to me when I was alone.” Reek knew he sounded stupid but it _felt_ like it mattered.

“Well, you already have a rash.” Ramsay stood and pulled him up then pushed him towards the house.

“Maybe it’s worth it. Don’t you…” But he couldn’t explain so he lowered his head, hugged himself and started back towards the porch. He stopped and waited at the sliding door.

Ramsay turned his shoulder and pressed him against the glass, grabbing his throat without squeezing it. “I’m the only mistake you get to make. Ok?”

Reek only blinked. “You’re not-”

“You don’t need another friend or poison. Don’t look again.” Ramsay kissed him and pushed into his mouth. He was slow deep and rolling.

Locke knocked against the door from the inside. “Upstairs with that, ladies!”

Ramsay pulled away but kept looking at him. “ _I’m right here._ ”

 

Theon looked shook the snow from his hand and looked down the street.

 

“I’m here. I took them all out.”

Roose looked over his shoulder. “And Loras?”

“Just fine.” Ramsay scanned the room. His father’s men were cleaning up. Alyn stood there miserably as Locke worked over a convulsing body. “Where is he?”

“Oh, Theon?” Roose winced. “I think I spooked him with an unfortunate choice of words. I’m sure he won’t get too far, as cold as it is.”

“You don’t make mistakes.”

Roose shrugged. “That mess is Theon’s uncle. He tried to kill your pet so I put a knife through his eye.”

“He said, ‘Take my hand’.” Locke laughed and waved the offending arm at Ramsay. “Theon turned him down so I took him up on the offer.” Locke continued hacking at his wrist bones.

“This was going to be a Christmas present.” Roose pulled at his phone at started tapping it’s surface. He frowned. “Ramsay how do you...”

Ramsay rolled his eyes and walked over. “What? What are you trying to do?”

“Got it!” Locke laughed and waved Euron’s hand over his head.

“I just installed an application for the thing but how do I bloody find it?”

“Father, just give me the phone.”

“No, show me how to-”

“I will but I need to see the phone first. Look, here, you have to open your app folder- _Pet Tracker_!”

Roose smirked and put the phone behind his back. “I think it’s a graduation present now, so I’m hesitant to hand it over.”

Ramsay pinched brow expanded as he understood. “Please? Please let me have it just for today. I’ll give it back tonight.” Roose seemed unmoved as ever. “Please? I’m sorry.”

“What?”

A cold flat smile sliced his face. “I’m sorry I was irresponsible, impulsive and rude.”

Roose gave a slice nod then, “I’m sorry I was irresponsible, impulsive and rude, what?”

Ramsay looked at Alyn who looked away uncomfortably. Then at Locke who guffawed at Ramsay like someone shooting spitballs from the back of the bus. Ramsay snarled through his smile and faced his father.

 

He ran through the empty building and, taking a corner too fast, nearly knocked over men carrying a body bag between them. Following the dot on the screen he shoved through the door back into winter. He slowed, looked around, then walked down the sidewalk.

Ramsay leaned down and peered into his car window. “How did you do that?”

Reek was looking straight ahead in the passenger seat, shivering. “You left the doors unlocked.”

Ramsay opened his door and got in. The leather seat squeaked underneath him. The door thunked shut. The engine started with a deep purr. “You ok, baby?”

“Not really.”

“I made it snow for you.”

Reek’s eyes traced along the console, up the steering wheel, along Ramsay’s arms until his face was found. “I know,” Reek said, in a voice that was far away. “That’s how I knew you were here.”

Ramsay pulled Reek by the collar that would be his graduation present and kissed him.


	43. Play It on Repeat

“Loras?” There was a crack and a splinter popped out near the top hinge which had bent slightly out. Damon released the door handle and started running upstairs.

“Damon,” Loras called.

“Where are you?” Damon flew around the bedroom slamming doors.

“Downstairs.”

Damon popped out of the bedroom, thudded down and was lifting Loras in a smothering hug, it seemed, as soon as he'd smashed through the front door. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” Loras groaned, “except you're squeezing me!”

“Shit!” Damon loosened his hold, setting Loras down. Damon looked all around them.“Did he leave?”

“Yeah. It's ok.”

“He left?” Damon repeated, pulling Loras closer.

“Yeah. Have a drink with me. I paired bleu cheese and-”

“Loras!”

“What?”

“Are you really ok?”

Loras turned from him and laughed. “Here. We deserve it. Cheers.” Damon let Loras put a glass in his wide hand and clink it with his own. He started drinking after Loras did but kept watching him. “I'm alright but I want to make our target tonight.”

“Make? Oh. Tonight?”

“I have to go. You know that, right?”

“Oh.” Damon set his glass down and nodded. “We would have noticed to leave soon and it will be much more dangerous being somewhat spontaneous.”

“But he isn't spontaneous, he's a dull creature of habit. I want this. I need to try.”

Damon downed the rest of his drink in one gulp. “We have to leave soon.”

 

“Let’s see what stations we get out here,” Loras suggested reaching for Damon’s phone.

Damon smacked his hand away. “What are you doing?”

“Turning your playlist off?" Loras suggested with an unusually tired smile.”

“We have to concentrate anyway, I can’t do that with your gay club shit.”

“‘Guh, with your gay club shit’,” Loras mocked back. “ _I_ didn’t push _you_ up against a wall the first time I saw you, and  _I_ haven't woken _you_ up every night with _my_ hard cock pressing into _your_ ass.”

Damon snorted and grinned with all his guileless charm. “Yeah but you liked it, right?”

Loras laughed. “Yeah, most of it. So who is this, Damon? Channngge it!”

"Who?!" Damon eyed Loras incredulously. “Who is- _are you even American_?!”

“What?” Loras lurched forward laughing. “What the hell does that mean?”

“That means its Johnny fucking Cash! Who in the fucking hell doesn’t like Johnny Cash?”

“Me? I don’t know!" Loras threw his hands out innocently.

"Shit.'

"What?" Loras laughed.

"The wife is leaving for her Bible Study. He's there alone. We'll wait five minutes. You remember what to do?"

"Already? I thought we'd have more time..."

Damon shrugged. "He's stumbling a little."

"I bet that started when his lover died."

Damon smirked at that. "Are we going? Yes or no, we shouldn't just hang around."

Loras grinned warmly. "Yeah. Hey, thanks, Damon."

Damon raised an eyebrow, screwed a suppressor onto a .45 and handed it over. "Stay close."

 

Damon walked silently to the gate and handed a large man an envelope. "Arthor." 

The man nodded and whistled then opened the gate. As they walked in, Loras saw two men leaving. He followed Damon around to a side door. "Cold," Loras whispered.

Damon regarded him for a second then motioned towards their feet. "Its alright; dry ground." He stepped into a dark garage and waited. "Hey, wake up." He snapped.

"What did you say?"

"Let's go."

Loras ran his thumb over the tiny squares covering his guns handle. "I'm ready."

 

 


	44. Peace Will Come

Damon carefully opened a door leading to a tight hallway he held his gun at his chest with both hands, listened then nodded to Loras and started up the first set of stairs on their left instead of going through to the open entrance with a high ceiling. Loras opened his mouth to tell Damon he was making a mistake, but they had planned this. He could see the floor plans and Damon’s finger tracing a path up the stairs. Damon grabbed and shook his shoulder. His head slowly turned looking up innocently. Damon was mouthing something but it was too dark. He blinked but couldn’t get the fog out of his eyes.

Damon pushed him into the wall. Cold tingling needs raced across his body. “What the fuck? Pay attention,” Damon rasped, hot against his ear. Loras nodded slowly. “I said to listen for the shower.”

“Does this feel like when we first met?”

Damon pulled back and looked Loras in the eyes. “Are you drunk?”

Loras shook his head and grabbed the railing and the stairs teetered this way then that.

Damon’s lips separated as his jaw sank. “Oh, fuck you.” Damon looked up the stairwell then down at Loras. “Shit!” Damon raised his long arm to point downstairs but Loras’ zipped by before he had a chance.

His heart was fluttering but he was light and dry-mouthed in a wet slow motion world. The needles dug in behind his knee and his jeans were sticking there. The door fell open like an obliging lover into bed and he was in an ordinary room. He found Stannis in grey boxers and white socks, brushing his teeth at the sink under a yellow light.

Stannis pressed his eyelids together and sighed. “Really?” He dropped his toothbrush in the sink and crossed his arms. He looked down at the gun and up to Loras’ smiling face. “And who the fuck are you?”

“Who- who the fuck am I?” He couldn’t believe it. The water kept running in the sink. He could see the toothbrush slowly spin as it rose in the water.

“Want to tell me who sent you here to kill me, son?”

“Son?” He felt uncomfortable, but didn’t lose momentum.

“Loras,” Damon sneered, whispering desperately.

“Do you know you’re bleeding?” Stannis asked looking unimpressed with his jittery assassin.

“Loras, does he have his gun?” Damon pleaded, poised to jump.

“Yeah, he’s aimed it at me,” Loras lied without looking away. “Don’t move or he’ll shoot. _You_ sent me here to kill you the day you killed my Renly.”

Stannis became less comfortably aloof. “Oh.” He sighed then his head exploded. His body stood there headless for what could only have been an instant before it collapsed.

“I…” Damon grabbed his arm. The pink mist covered shower curtain spun out of sight. “I was supposed to kill him.” The whirling room was indifferent. Everything bounced and shook. He was moving through space without touching anything. He could see Damon’s heels swish in and out of sight so far below. “I was supposed to kill him.”

“You said he was aiming at you.” Loras onky heard a fading highpitched ring.

Damon threw their stolen iphones into the microwave and spread olive oil over a paper towel which he left halfway out of the door when he closed it. He spread the oil around the kitchen counters and set the microwave for twenty minutes.

“I was supposed to kill him.”

“WELL YOU FUCKED THAT UP!” Damon hit ‘start’ then whirled around and stormed out with Loras bobbing on his shoulder.

“I was supposed to kill him!”

“Shut up. shut the fuck up!”

Loras watched the floor pass and tried to lift his head. It was such an ordinary house and it didn’t look like anything had changed at all. Something stood out in his translucent field of vision. “Oh no. Damon.”

“LORAS!”

“There’s a kid here!”

“What?” Damon stopped abruptly.

Loras puked, somehow avoiding Damon’s back. There’s a sibbycuh. Uh, I can’t breathe.”

Damon saw a plain pink sippy cup and small bowl of dry cheerios on a coffee table behind them. “Shit. That’s the empty room in the blue prints.”

“He does,” Loras fought through shallow coughs, “he really has a daugh-ugh.”

Damon dropped Loras and wretched forward like he was sneezing but bellowed “Fuck!” instead.

“Meet you at the car.” Damon looked at Loras with dread as he climbed to his feet. “Hey,” He beamed as he huffed, struggling to catch his breath. “I’m clean and we’re saving someone.” His eyes were orbs of blissful blue, as though his pupils had been overtaken.

“RUN!” Damon sprinted for the room underneath the stairs and kicked the door down. There was a shrill tiny scream and he saw her. He could hear the popping and banging start, so he grabbed the tiny thing and blew through the tight hall into the garage. The door outside was wide open. Damon leapt through into the freezing night. He didn’t stop running until the threw open the door to his empty car.


	45. Even So Far Away

Gauze was wrapped around his chest so tightly, Loras couldn’t catch his breath. The door wasn’t so far but the distance felt impossible to cross, then seemed to grow over him. He felt nice, but needed a quick rest. His numb, fat hands slid under the black shirt Damon bought him to tear free from his bandages. The room was darkening. He pulled at the patch ramsay had smoothed onto his arm that morning. He couldn’t tell if he removed it or not. He was exhausted. It had to be sleep rolling across the ceiling, falling so slowly.

He couldn’t even feel the gray carpet on his face, only felt profound exhaustion. His right hand closed with the thumb extended, as though it were wrapping around another. “Sleep?” Loras smiled from his golden hairline to his dimpled chin, the way he used to. “Finally.”

 

“Loras?” Damon set the girl down and ripped the back door open so furiously the handle snapped. “Loras? DON’T FUCK AROUND!” Damon spun looking around the car and over the lawn. The car groaned when he slumped into it.

“What’s wrong?”

Glass shattered and smoke came pouring out and up. “Stay here,” Damon picked the girl up and set her in the backseat. “Do not move.”

“Ok.”

Damon ran to the broken window. Gagging and hacking, he pushed through and called for Loras, but if he had broken the window, he must have climbed out already. “Loras?” Damon put a hand on the window frame and immediately pulled it back, cursing. He could hear a neighbor yelling at her husband to call 911. “Shit.”

 

The car dipped when Damon climbed in. “Woa! You make the car like a seesaw!”

Damon looked through the rearview mirror. “Are you afraid?”

“No.” The little girl smiled the same overly broad anxious way that Theon always did. “Are you sad?”

Damon leaned back and buckled her in. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I'm going to miss my friend. He had to go. He told me a long time ago but... I wasn’t ready.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks." Damon wiped his cheek on his sleeve. "Are you sad?”

“Nuh uh. Did my knight send you?”

Damon scanned the yard, no figures were came running against the glowing backdrop. “A knight sent me. Why don’t you tell me about yours so I can make sure he’s the right one?”

“YES! Oh, really? Are you a doctor?”

“Nope.” Damon let the car slide down the street in neutral. He kept looking back at the house. Why wasn't she? “Do you need a doctor?”

“That's what my knight says. Mother and Daddy don’t belibe in doctors and medicine. Pray pray pray, pray the sin away! Are you a... ebil guy?”

Damon put the car in drive and left the inferno behind them. “I’m your friendly giant.”

Shireen smiled.

 

Ramsay pulled away and smiled sweetly “Anyone else?”

“What?”

“Anyone else!” Ramsay yelled, slapping Reek. “What the fuck was that? How could you say that to me?!” He slapped Reek’s the thin arm shielding Reek’s face.

“What? Ramsay, stop!”

There was a knock on Ramsay’s window. He turned with a sneer. Alyn waved and leaned on the door. Ramsay lowered the window a little. “Hi, Alyn.”

“Hey. Hi, Theon, I'm glad you didn't die.”

Theon bobbed his head. “Yep, heh. Thanks, pal.”

“What do you want?”

“What’s with your windshield?”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Look. It's cracked right there in front of you. Oh, your forehead, huh? Were you wearing a seat belt?”

“Bye, Alyn!”

“You look fucked up.” Ramsay rolled his window back up but Alyn called, “You should let him drive and leave her in your carport for me.”

Ramsay frowned and started the car. Alyn backed onto the curb and flicked him off when he peeled out. “I can drive,” he told Reek.

“I trust you.”

"Where the hell is your jacket, you fucking idiot?"

"They took it... those people." Theon shook his head and looked out the window.

"Here," Ramsay leaned this way then that and wiggled out of his jacket.

Theon smiled and wrapped it around himself. "Ooo, lolipop!"

"Fuck!" Ramsay slapped it from his hand."NO!"

"What the fuck? It's only a piece of candy!"

"Just give me that."

"Fine," Theon mumbled with miserable resignation.

Ramsay rolled his window down and tossed it out. "It was unwrapped, stupid. It's probably been in that jacket since the 80's." Ramsay rolled his window up one centimeter at a time in a steady rhythm. "Reek, Reek, Reek, Reek, Reek, Reek, Reek," until it was shut.

"What?"

"I'm sorry about your lolipop. I have a bigger one for you. It comes with a surprise at the end."

"You're not cute. You're annoying." Ramsay punched his arm. "Ow!" Theon laughed. It felt good to act stupid and normal, like waking up from a nightmare.

“So… spent some time alone with Father, huh? How’s that for some fucking laughs?” Theon cocked his head to the side and smiled his little trying-not-to smile. “‘Sit up straight, fix your shirt, lower your voice, watch where you’re going, don’t eat like a pig, come here, sit down, pay attention, pretend like you give a shit, don’t poison your mother’s boyfriend.’ Did you have enough of that yet?”

Theon smiled at the hands he rubbed together in his lap. “You sound just like him.”

“I know.” He pushed Theon’s shoulder. _Look at me_. “I should probably be an actor. Hold on, my ass is vibrating. Oh! I got you present, by the way.”

“Oh my god,” Theon sighed, holding his head.

“Hello!" He shouted into his phone. "Damon? What do you need? Uh… David… no, Davos Seawhorf… worth, I think. Call me in two hours and I’ll have directions for you.”


	46. The Sun Has Come

“Come on.” Damon waited bending as low as he could. “It’s frigg’n cold.” He gently waved her out.

“But…” Shireen kneaded the hem of her dress through her fingers. “Are you sure it’s safe?” She leaned out the car door he held to peer through falling snow at the glowing diner. A woman with a rose tattoo on her arm and short curled hair passed a table where two men talked over coffee.

Damon picked her up above his head and set her on his shoulders. “There. Now you're the biggest one here.”

Shireen held his forehead to her chest, shivering.

 

She stared at the lady with pink hair who smiled back. She looked up to the giant, still trembling in the warm, green booth.

“Chicken nuggets, Mac n’ cheese and chocolate milk,” Damon said at last and slid the sticky plastic menus back behind the ketchup bottle. “Minutes. MINUTES. No! Minutes.” He growled into his phone. “Add. ADD.” He sighed, rolling his head back. “Main menu.”

Shireen glanced this way and that, staying still as a statue. No one seemed to stare or really notice her at all. No one brandished the pitchforks or torches her mother would talk about when she stared out the window too long. “Do you think they’re afraid of me?”

The giant quirked an eyebrow. “Scared of you?” He crunched the dark grey flip phone with one hand and let it drop on the table. “There. Now anyone watching is more afraid of me, especially if they’re a phone.”

Shireen smiled.

Ramsay could have her relaxed and laughing by now. Damon sighed. “We might have to find a library to print out directions.”

“I always wanted to go to a library!”

Damon cleared the mess of his cheap temporary phone, pushing to the end of the table. He rubbed his chin. “How old are you?”

“How old do you think I am?” She asked cheerfully, playing with her dress again.

“Six?”

“I am! Good guess.”

“You don’t act like a six year old at all. You seem older.”

“I’ll be seven in a week..”

“Or maybe ten? Shi-oot.” Damon leaned back then smiled gently. “I bet you anything your knight is going to take you to doctors and libraries.”

“Do you think they can fix my face?” she whispered.

“There’s no way to fix beautiful.”

Shireen tilted her head and leaned back. “That’s very kind but please don’t patronize me.”

Damon snorted. “You’ll be ok, kid.”

Shireen gave Damon a real smile at last. Her eyes traced the contours of his face. “What’s wrong?”

Damon stirred his coffee, feeling very tired. “Nothing, really. Just worrying about someone else.”

 

Alyn couldn’t roll his eyes any higher. He leaned against the window ready to rip his own skin off.

“... but I said, ‘Oh yeah? Put down your gun and we’ll see who’s faster. Fight me like a man!’ The goddamn idiot did it!” Locke slapped his thigh and laughed and hooted. “I love these goat-fucking hillbillies and their sense of honor. I shot him BAM right through the kneecap.”

“I was there and it happened five minutes ago,” Alyn growled, pressing fingertips into his pounding head.

“Yeah, but… shit, boy, I thought we could bond a little if we’re trusting one another with our fucking lives.”

Alyn closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “Ok. I’m your buddy. Happy? You can stop talking now.”

“You’re in my car, little boy.”

Alyn turned, pulling back, with a deep frown. “You’re fucking drunk.”

“What?! Fuck you! Who do you think you are? Better than me? Is that what you think? Like you never drink. You drink Damon’s cumm. That’s what you drink, cumm-drinker.”

“Stop. Talking. At. Me.” Alyn spit through grinding teeth.

“You’re a little boy. Look at you, stupid cunt. How,” Locke leaned forward, wheezing in sudden laughter, “how the hell can you take yourself so seriously?!”

“Pull over.”

Locke’s head bobbed over to leer at his passenger. “What?”

“Pull. Over.”

“Pull over? What? You wanna go? Yeah? I’ll go! You cocky little prick. Do us both a favor and stay down so we don’t have to stop at a hospital.”

 

Alyn came gliding into the car and shut the door with smile. He held out his hand.

Locke fell in the passenger seat, holding his ribs, and begrudgingly dropped the keys in his waiting hand. Alyn started the car and peeled out. Blood splattered on the console when Locke had a coughing fit but, other than that, the rest of the ride was quiet.

 

He waited, twirling a cigarette between his forefinger and thumb. He scratched his head on the freezing brick at his back. She stomped past, head held high, eyes clear and vigilant, right on time. Her gym bag bounced lightly and unevenly, weighed down in the back. Alyn slipped up behind her. “Asha, it’s Theon.”

“What?” She spun with wide, hopeful eyes then frowned. “Who the fuck are you?”

Alyn put the gun to her heart and pulled the trigger. He walked away as she stumbled back into a growing pool of blood.

 

“Done.” Alyn tossed the gun into Locke’s lap. He started the car and waited for his chance to pull out into traffic.

“What are you so fucking happy about?”

Alyn didn’t answer but pulled out a cigarette. “Want one?”

“Sure.” Locke lit Alyn’s then slipped one out of the pack offered to him. “Menthols?” He curled his lip but lit and puffed, savoring the first drag, anyhow. “I thought you didn’t like offing women.”

Alyn smiled to himself.

“You’re real fucking creepy, you know that?”

“I just want keep the few things I have while I have them.” Alyn furrowed his brow looking at the cigarette slowing turning to ash in his gloved hands. He took a drag, and found he still didn’t like the taste. He pinched the butt and shot the cigarette through the crack in his window. “And you never know how long you’ll have them.”


	47. Two Angels Falling

The biting cold wind was sharp and dry, yet the buildings passing by looked saturated with dampness. A thin cover of clouds blanketed the air above.

The sky was reflected in Ramsay’s eyes and Theon was a heavy grey below them.

“What?”

“What?” Theon's thumb circled his palm.

“What do you want to ask me?”

Theon frowned and looked out the window. “I hate when you do that,” he mumbled.

“Be less transparent,” Ramsay snapped with a cold smile that soured. He smacked his Reek’s arm. “ _Look at me._ ”

“You’re already mad,” Theon lamented.

“I have this feeling that you got a terrible idea into your idiot head that I won’t agree to and you’re going to be a little shit about it.” Ramsay gripped the steering wheel. “You don’t understand what I just did for you. You’re not leaving. Alright? That’s it. Let’s not fight and just skip to that part. There.” He mimicked dusting his hands. “Save yourself a lot of pain.”

Theon turned to stare out the window.

Ramsay tapped the steering wheel, gritting his teeth. “Don’t-”

“I need to see my mother.”

Ramsay groaned and rolled his head back. “Ugh! Fucking... _why_?”

“I need to talk to her.”

“Why are you doing this to me? I didn’t hurt your stupid slut BFF, ok? I told you I wouldn’t. Is that what this is really about?”

“I…” Theon furrowed his brow at Ramsay and tilted his head. “She.. _she’s my mother.”_

“Hey!” Ramsay smacked Theon’s thigh and grinned. “I’ll take you to see mum! Alright? Before anyone else gets there. You’ll like that, won’t you?”

Reek’s wide eyes kept blinking at him.

“Reek? Hey! Don’t look at me like I’m fucking crazy. I am _trying_ to be nice."

Still, he stared in silence.

"Reek, what do you say when I’m kind to you?”

“ _Ramsay_ ,” Theon pleaded at last, “she’s the only family I have left.”

The car went swerving and spinning into a strip mall parking lot where it slammed to a stop. “Ramsay, no, please-” but the strikes were already coming. Theon did his best to cover his face with his forearms and lean into the corner. It was almost a strange relief, something he could understand and heal from. Something with an end. Ramsay punched his back, right below his ribs, and he heard himself screaming.

His head was pulled back roughly by the roots. “How could you say that to me?”

“I’m sorry. My uncle tried to kill me, it’s made me upset. You know how weak I am. You’re so patient…”

Ramsay dropped back into his seat. “You’re not leaving me. Not ever."

“I know.”

 

“Hey,” Locke called. His breath fogged the glass. “Get me some smokes and a red bull, would you?” He fed a twenty through the crack in the window. “And something for yourself.”

The pump’s trigger clicked against Alyn’s fingers. He put it back in the holder and hit ‘NO’. He did not want a receipt.

“Aren’t you going to take the money, you backwards asshole?”

Alyn yanked his camouflage cap down his forehead and kept walking to the gas station. A man entering let the door go, even though Alyn was right behind them. He threw up his palm to stop the glass before it hit his face. “ _Cunt_.”

As he picked up the red bull and went looking for beef jerky, the grating sounds of idiots braying about football kept stabbing him. Alyn shouldn’t be around drunks, so he tries to avoid the public at night. But the sun was still setting, why the fucking shithead would be drunk this early? It wasn’t fair! Alyn just needed to get fucking gas, he tried to be nice to Locke and now look! He crushed the chocolate bar in his hand and marched to the checkout line.

“Hey!” One of the idiots in a hideous puffy jacket and pants far too big for him leaned on the counter. “Hey! Lady! Hey!”

The woman behind the counter pretended not to see or hear.

“Come on, man,” an older guy muttered in front of Alyn.

“What? What you say, bitch?”

“That’s enough of that,” the woman chirped nervously.

Alyn started growling.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a skinny hyper one slurred loudly. “Look we just want a lighter just real quick. Ok?”

“What you got ta’ say, old man?”

“Well…” the woman started, stepped back when the largest one came to sit on the counter.

“There is a line.” They all looked to Alyn.

“Uh, what’s that now?” The little loud one said, looking to his friends.

“There is a fucking line. If you want a lighter shut the fuck up and get wait your turn.”

“What you say? What you-”

Alyn’s world went roaring red. He took one of the poles holding the seatbelt like rope and smashed it into the boy’s obnoxious face. His head bounced when it hit the tile then the boy lay there with his foot twitching. His friends scrambled to runaway. Alyn sighed and cleared his throat.

The man and girl in front of him backed out of his way, the man bumping into a cardboard sunglass stand whuch he pulled upright with a nervous smile.

Alyn tried to smile back and put a the twenty on the counter. “Keep it.”

 

“Thanks!” Locke grabbed the tiny tin can and popped it open. “You get my smokes?” Locke had packed his bandana with snow to nurse his swollen face.

“Take mine.” Alyn threw his pack over and peeled out.

 

Ramsay gave Theon a glass of water and held out a cupped hand. “Take your medicine.”

“Oh, I did. I took it everyday.”

Ramsay didn’t retract his demand but opened his mouth wide. “Ah.”

Theon groaned and followed the instruction. “Ah.”

Ramsay put a pill under his tongue then the cup to his mouth.

 _I can do it_ , Theon seethed internally, swallowing.

“ _Ah_.”

Theon sank a little then opened his mouth wide again for inspection. “ _Ah_.”

“Eh,” Ramsay lifted his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

“Eh,” Theon obeyed.

“Good boy.”

“What was that?”

Ramsay just pet his head.

Theon fell into the comforter. He watched white stitches flow and fall against the black velvet to make teardrop patterns as Ramsay went about the room.

A familiar weight bounced at the foot of the bed. Theon sprang up. “What are you doing?” He watched as Ramsay unlocked his toy box and pulled out his favorite restraints. “What- what did I do?”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Ramsay crooned with a slight smirk pulling at his cheek. He unwrapped connected ankle cuffs.

“Oh... I can’t. Not now.” Theon backed away.

“You don’t want to play with me?” Ramsay uttered mirthlessly.

“Not today. Please.”

Ramsay dropped the cuffs on the bed and leveled Theon with a cold stare. “Come here.”

Theon whined. His heart was gripped by the cold vice Ramsay must have planted inside him years ago. He crawled forward on the mattress until Ramsay grabbed his face with both hands. His fast fingers slid behind Theon’s jaw and pulled him into an intrusive kiss. Theon shuddered and hiccupped stifling a wail. He pulled back. “ _Please_.”

Ramsay leaned in to follow with sharp eyes and a callous grin. “Why not? Because you’re upset with me?”

“No…” Theon lowered his chest, nearly to the mattress. “I just... can’t. I’m exhausted and worried. Listen, Euron said that-”

Ramsay brought a gag out of the box and worked it into his mouth. “I don’t want to talk about anyone else. Now look down for me.”

The rubber bit pulled up into his mouth as Ramsay fastened the gag behind his head. Theon watched his vision blur then shake before a tear dropped from the center right onto the white stitching made in its shape.

Ramsay pulled him up and roughly shoved him back, jumping on top of him. “You're exhausted? You can rest here. Nice and safe, secure.” He wrestled one wrist to the headboard and bound it there as Theon cried out unintelligibly. Ramsay snatched his left wrist and kissed his palm. “Take an hour to calm yourself then, if you just can’t get into it, I’ll let you go and give you some space.” Ramsay bent to kiss his forehead and cuffed his left wrist.

 

Damon laid his arm across the back of the passenger seat and turned to look at Shireen. He felt his cheeks rise looking at her bouncing in her seat. “You know this isn’t disneyland, right?”

“I’m ready! I’m ready!”

“Well, stay close to me. Hear me?”

“Yes.” She said solemnly. “I promise!”

 

The library was a little more busy than he expected but it was open, clean and quiet. “Not too bad.” She started tugging at his hand. “What?”

“This way! Look! Clifford! Amelia Bedelia! Ferdinand! Oh! Bunnicula!”

A shot resounded deep in his chest as he let her drag him along into a room filled with a mess of colorful decorations and very short stacks of thin books. “What was that last one?”

“Bunnicula! He’s a rabbit but he’s a vampire and there’s a, heehee, dog-”

“No before that.”

“Ferdinand! He didn’t want to fight the other bulls!”

“Ha.” Damon slowly sank into a chair. “Like this guy?” He took off his winter coat and pushed his sleeve up to his shoulder.

“Oh, dude.” A woman with thick black glasses and a short mohawk popped up from behind a cart. “That is an awesome tattoo.”

“Thanks." Damon swallowed and forced a casual smile though he was reeling.

He had just made himself identifiable right after a job. Roose had never let him solve problems. He was supposed to stake out, clean up, and watch over Ramsay.

 

“Look at him,” Roose explained waving dismissively at his son. “How would you describe him?”

“Uh, hyper?”

Ramsay frowned leaning back sideways in a patton leather chair. He sent a pencil spinning into the air.

“Physically.”

“He’s, um, white. Brown hair.”

“Like eighty percent of men in this area, maybe more. Try to be more specific. Does he look young or old? Is his hair very dark or very light? Is he tall or short? Tan or pale?”

Damon  had shrugged. “He’s always looked like Ramsay. If I didn’t know him I could believe he was 15 or 30. His hair is… not too dark. I don’t know. He’s tall-ish… I guess. Not really.”

“Average. Completely average in all things.”

Ramsay huffed and threw a pencil into the ceiling.

“Ramsay, where do you think that pencil will go after it falls?”

Damon pulled it down from the ceiling and shoved it against Ramsay’s chest.

“Not many people could do that, Damon.” Roose said pointing to the hole left above them. “Not many men have long blond hair either. No one notices Alyn, he blends in with all the other poor people fairly well. Ramsay is perfectly average looking and an excellent actor.”

“Thank you.” Ramsay started to throw his pencil but stopped when Roose kept staring at him. He broke it and threw it in the trash beside his father’s desk.

Roose turned his penetrating glare to Damon. “It is critical that you are never seen near a job. _One_ eye witness and you’ll be tracked down within hours. Do you understand? Never get caught. Do your job and stay out of sight until you’re home.”

 

At least he was more than 100 miles from the job now. Since the damage was done anyway he asked if he could use a computer.

 

Damon looked over the directions and ended his guest session. “Time to go, kiddo.”

“Wait.” Shireen sat on his lap before he could stand. “I want to read this to you.”

Damon’s mouth hung dumbly open.

“ _Once upon a time in Spain, there was a little bull and his name was Ferdinand_ …”

His shaking hand gently touched her back.

 

“.... _And for all I know he is sitting there still, under his favorite cork tree, smelling the flowers just quietly. He is very happy._ Oh look! Someone left a heart on the last page."

Damon touched his finger to the purple crayon heart then pulled both his hands away. Shireen clapped the book shut and jumped up to put it back where it belonged.

He inhaled, feeling like he hadn’t took one breath since she began reading.

Shireen walked back to him slowly and spoke gently, as though she was three times his size and not the other way around. “There’s a time for everything,” she said and took his thumb in her hand. “And it’s time to go now.”

“Is that what your father used to say?” he rasped, not knowing why he would say it.

Her bittersweet smile was decades older than she could have been.


	48. I Hit the Ground

“Well,” Damon parked around the corner from the house. He could see the front door from here. “Go ring the doorbell. I’ll wait to make sure he’s there.” He put his arm around the passenger seat and turned around. “I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

Shireen unbuckled herself and stood to hug Damon’s neck. Her eyelashes fluttered on against his stubble when she gave him a light dry kiss on his cheek. “Please visit.” She shut the door and hopped onto the sidewalk.

The car was so empty.

Damon lowered the passenger window. “If it’s not the right house come right back!”

She was already running. She skipped up the white stone steps and rang the bell over and over until the porch light turned on. A scruffy man in jeans and flannel opened the door and swallowed Shireen. Damon gasped and gripped the wheel. Then the man started swaying his little friend from side to side, with a choking kind of barking laugh. She was squealing something. She sounded so happy that Damon smiled.

Davos knelt to talk to her then stood looking down the street, Damon assumed for him. So he backed out and pulled away. He could just make out the man yelling “Thank you” before he put the house and its road far behind him.

 

Theon woke up to Ramsay petting his hair. “How are you feeling now?”

He tried to talk but couldn’t. Drool was running down his chin. He growled and pulled at his tethers.

“Are you still grumpy? Even after your nap?” Ramsay patted his cheek. “You need to stretch?” Ramsay held up a fist and a blade popped out from it. “Uncomfortable?”

Theon rocked and tried kicking out, but he was tightly restrained. Ramsay twirled the knife around so it was sticking out the bottom of his fist then he went to stab Theon’s heart. Theon’s limbs jerked against their bonds as his eyes squeezed shut but he was unharmed. Above him, Ramsay was laughing.

He first popped his blade through the obsidian button on Theon’s new pants. Theon kicked out again, and banged his head against the mattress. “What? You like these clothes father gave you?” Ramsay leaned forward and bit his earlobe. Theon squirmed and whined. Ramsay ran the flat side of the blade slowly across his cheek, like a caress. “You’re not his to dress up, and _you look fucking ridiculous_.”

Ramsay tore threw the buttons on his dress shirt. He started from his Reek’s fly to cut and tear the pants away, opening his present.

Reek was trembling underneath him, in between his knees when he tore the last strip of clothing away. His eyes kept locking onto Ramsay’s; large, vulnerable, pleading. Ramsay lowered his forehead

“Here comes the good part,” he promised and took out a tiny key.

The cool air hit coursing over him, shocking and exhilarating. He hadn’t even been touched and he was getting hard, one throbbing heartbeat at a time. “Good boy,” Ramsay purred. Reek whined and tossed his head to one side. He swallowed hungrily and rubbed his cheek into the sheets. “Did you miss me?” Ramsay rubbed his thigh, giving a rolling squeeze here and there.

Reek lifted his furious head and tried in vain to shout something when Ramsay slapped him.

“No! Bad!” Ramsay poked his finger in Reek’s face. “No growling.”

He fell back into the pillow whined.

Ramsay grabbed his throat. “That’s better.”

Reek rubbed his inner calf against Ramsay’s leg and whimpered.

“Good boy. You need me, don’t you?”

Reek nodded, dissolving and desperate.

Ramsay rubbed his hands together rapidly and huffed slowly into them. The his warm hands ghosted just a hair’s width away from pulsing erection. It twitched with a rush of blood, trying to bend to Ramsay’s hands when the warmth was pulled away. Reek writhed and whimpered pitifully. “Good boy,” Ramsay rumbled breathlessly. He was pumping into his own hand. “Beg me,” Ramsay massaged and dug his nails into Reek’s thigh. “Beg me like good bitch. You want to come, puppy? You want a treat? I don’t believe you.”

Tears came to Theon’s eyes but he couldn’t resist as Ramsay’s strong, warm hand made it’s way up to his lower hip. He knew exactly what Ramsay wanted and whined shamelessly, in rapidly building and falling high pitched, throaty crescendos; just like a fucking dog.

Ramsay growled and stabbed into Reek’s hip with his fingers. Reek sucked air in sharply through his nose and moaned when Ramsay’s hot came in spurts on his aching cock.

Ramsay sighed and gave his bruised hip a pat. “Good boy, Reek. You’re perfect.” But Ramsay got off the bed.

Reek panicked. Shaking for relief, he tried begging every way at his disposal.

“Sweet puppy. Don’t worry, here is the best part.”

Something cold and wet glided inside Theon. His breath stopped and couldn’t get started again when the smooth, curved object started vibrating against and kneading his prostate. He more screamed than moaned into the gag.

“I don’t want to hear about your mother. I don’t give a shit what diseased jaundiced cock squirted you into her battered vagina. You’re here, that’s all that matters to me. I’m here, that’s all that matters to you. I am your father, your mother, your only lover and your god. No one else loves you but me.” Ramsay spoke in rolling velvet. “I won’t let them. Now come for Master. I know you can.”

 

“Almost home, huh?”

Alyn said nothing.

“Do you, uh… you probably don’t have a home, do you?”

Alyn looked at the clock for the millionth time that second. How. much. fucking. longer. It just wasn’t moving. It had to be broken. He ran a rough hand over his hair. If he didn’t keep it buzzed, he’d be pulling it out.

“You’re kinda lucky that way, son. My old man was pretty mean. I was stupid enough to replace his vodka with water, right?” Locke started snorting at his own anecdote before he ever told it. Listen, what my dumb ass didn’t realize was that water freezes and vodka don’t, right?” He had to catch his breath, he found himself so fucking hilarious. “Well, an exploded bottle in the freezer, and about seven wallops with his belt later, my ass was- ooo! Fucking tanned, son! My poor mama cried more than I did. Oh man, but I never did that shit again.”

“You never drank his booze again?” Alyn seethed incredulously.

“Well… I mean,”

“He hit your mom? Is that funny?”

“What?” Locke frowned and lowered the window to throw his makeshift icepack out onto the slushy highway. “No, what are you-”

“Why was she crying?”

Locke was uncomfortable with the question. “Nothing, forget it. Fucking retard. Hey, did you bring some fucking gum or what? You have some periodontal ground zero shit in that fuckhole you got on your face.”

Alyn took a deep breath and counted to fuck it.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Damon. There was only a busy signal stabbing at him in flashes. “This piece of shit is broken.” Alyn’s chest started heaving.

“Wha-what’s a matter? Hey, hey, it’s cool.” Locke smiled, lifting his fingers defensively.

“Now I have to get a new one. I hate stores and I hate cell phone stores the most and I motherfucking hate the weasley shit-eating bitches who sell them. They want to talk and laugh about NOTHING and they won’t shut the fuck up! They keep pressuring you and won’t listen! They always smile with dead eyes like crocodiles. They pretend to be your friend even though they don’t know me and they won’t give a shit when I walk out the door. Now I have to ask fucking Ramsay to go with me!”

“Well…” Locke shrugged, “what the hell, son! It can’t be that bad! Who went with you last time?”

Alyn pulled the car onto a shoulder and put it in park. He turned to Locke with red eyes. “Don’t call me _son_.”


	49. Came Home

Damon stood on his porch, key in hand. He could see the fragile neck of a bottle of wine on the table and just couldn’t open the door.

He left the key on top of the side window frame.

Back in his own car, he sat facing a similar problem. They were supposed to try salmon tartar on herbed flatbread with brie. Damon leaned back in his seat and ran a hand down his face. He heard himself groaning for awhile.

“Guess I’ll just go to fucking McDonalds then!” Damon surprised himself by shouting. He started laughing to himself. “Oh, shit fucks, now I’m talking to you instead of you talking to Renly.” He kept laughing harder, until he doubled over. Damon opened the door and rolled from his empty car onto the cold ground down the long path from his empty cabin. He rolled until he brushed against a fallen branch. He looked over at it and grabbed it with a choking grip.

 

When Damon crashed, exhausted, against the trash loaner from the junkyard, he heard his personal cell ringing. He leaned into his car to grab it as he tried to catch his breath. “Hey.”

“Damon?” Alyn panted.

“Alyn? What is it?”

“I fucked up.”

Damon jerked up to standing. “I’m coming, just tell me where you are.”

“At Walmart parking lot in Weeping Waters.”

“I’m like four hours south. You want to wait for me or meet me somewhere in between?”

“I’ll meet up with you.”

 

Alyn was sitting on the trunk of Locke’s car, hugging his chest tightly.

“Hey!” Alyn peered over his shoulder. “It’s fucking 15 degrees outside and you’re wearing a hoodie?” Alyn sniffed and shrugged. Damon took his jacket off and put it around Alyn. He looked around the car and snow covered dirt road.

“This is too big for me.”

“Where’s Locke?”

Alyn looked at the bumper under his feet. “Below me.”

“Ah…” The car rolled back when Damon leaned against it. “Shit. Are you ok?”

Alyn nodded. “I couldn’t stop.”

“I know, kid.” Damon put an arm around Alyn and pulled him closer.

“He called me a 'rabid fucking animal'. That’s when I couldn’t stop. I’m not an animal. I’m not.”

“Hey,” Damon swung around and knelt to meet his gaze, “we’re going to fix this, me and Ramsay. We’re keeping you and we’re keeping you safe. Understand?”

Alyn nodded.

“Well…” Damon sighed, “get in and follow me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Remember when we got rid of Theon’s beater? We’re going to find a place to do that. Then we’re going home.” Damon smacked Alyn’s knee and went back to his car.

Ramsay was merrily curled around Reek smelling his hair and half-dozing when he heard the garage door open downstairs.

 

“Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow. I hope my apart-” he stopped hearing what sounded like a log rolling down the stairs. A figure appeared in the dim hallway and Damon was slammed to the floor.

“YOU ASSHOLE!” Ramsay sat on his stomach, punching and slapping him. “ASSHOLE, FUCKER, BITCH, CUNT, FLAKE!”

Alyn knocked Ramsay over and started choking him silently.

“ENOUGH!” Damon sat up. Alyn let go and stood. “Go to bed, kid. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Ramsay smiled and waved goodbye from the floor.

 

“Here.” Ramsay wiped the blood from Damon’s nose and mouth. “You need a drink?”

“Nah.” He sank into Ramsay’s couch. Loras had touched his chest here. He said he liked the hair on it. “I don’t want to go in the apartment right now.”

“Sleep here.” Ramsay demanded gruffly.

He stormed off as though he still had something to be indignant about. He dug through the hall closet until he found the king sized blanket he bought five years ago. He didn’t get it for any other giant freak. It would never matter how much he gave. The only birds that stay have clipped wings.

“HERE!” He threw it in Damon’s stupid ungrateful face then hit him with three pillows. He likes two for his head and one to put between his knees, not that it fucking matters.

Damon pushed everything off with a wave of his arm. His face was strangely pale. “Ramsay?”

“What?”

“Is she really gone?”

Ramsay’s shoulders slumped and something heavy welled up in his throat. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

Damon fell forward in slow motion then shook with a wheezing gasp. "I couldn't..."

Ramsay rushed over and wrapped an arm around his head, making circles on his wide back. “I’m so sorry, Damon.”

 

He stayed beside his best friend until he started to fall like timber. “Damon. Damon! ALYN!” Alyn poked his head around the wall. “You don’t have to creep, you know." Ramsay gasped under Damon's weight. "You can fucking hang out asshole!"

Alyn smirked. “Huh, what are you doing?” 

“Damon fell asleep on me.”

“Ha ha!” Alyn left calling out. “Get your bitch to help.”

“He can’t! He’s… oh, yeah. Real fucking funny.”


	50. Light from Another World

“Aren’t Ramsay and Theon coming?” Alyn was confused when Damon started backing out.

“To Ramsay’s mother’s house?” Damon asked with smirk. “Yeah. They’ll be there so get ready, kid. Music?”

Alyn looked through the cds in Damon’s glove box and pulled one out.

“He has a album of American songs and shit and he covered the Misfits, The Bad Seeds and Nine Inch Nails."

“Oh shit, really? That’s cool. You like Johnny Cash?”

Alyn quirked an eyebrow. “Who the fuck doesn’t like Johnny Cash?”

Damon laughed. “I know, right? Communists and terrorists, that's who.” He swallowed and smiled sadly then looked at Alyn’s stern little face and rubbed the top of his head. Damon exhaled and scratched the stubble on his neck. “Thanks for getting the things out of the trailer and… helping Chantelle-” Damon frowned and smelled his hand. “Why the fuck do you smell like smoke?”

“Um…”

 

“Baby.” Ramsay kissed his temple. “Get up. French toast!”

Reek stretched through layers of warmth and softness. “What… am I late?”

“Late for what, puppy?”

Reek blinked his eyes to squinting open. “We’re at your mother’s?”

“Yeah.” Ramsay pet his hair. “Nice, right?”

Reek nodded. Slow blinks starting shutting his eyes again. “May I sleep in, please?”

Ramsay pressed his lips together trying not to frown. “Yeah. It’s still early. Stay in bed until I come get you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

He watched Reek awhile before he committed himself to leaving the bed. Ramsay rubbed Reek’s back, unsure of what was bothering him. When he left he used a small hex key to lock the door. 

 

“Mum?” She was sitting on the counter with her hand over her mouth and a spatula ready to fall from her hand. Ramsay clicked the news off, and switched the pan to another burner. “What?” He approached her slowly and put both hands on her knees. “Mummy!”

“Huh? Honey, have you heard about Damon’s friend?”

“Oh," He relaxed. "Loras?”

“ _Ramsay_! Why didn’t you tell me?”

He rolled his eyes. “You didn’t even know him.”

“Sweetheart, look at me and don’t lie.” His eyebrows popped up and his lips pressed together. “It is _not_ funny. Are you... doing heroin?”

Ramsay found that extremely funny. “No! Loras was, you know,” he whistled to indicate the kid was crazy. He dumped the burnt french toast in the garbage and put the pan on the burner to start again. “They think he killed Baratheon. I heard his little sister wife offed herself yesterday, ha ha.”

“Honey…” she shook her head. “Wasn’t he friends with Damon and Theon?”

“Who? Lawrence? Is that his name?” He made a grabbing motion at the spatula and she tossed it to him.

“They found fentanyl in his system. Dealers are putting that in heroin now, it causes most of the overdoses I see. Sometime people with terminal illness use patches, injections or loll-”

“You need to quit that fucking job.” Ramsay clenched his mouth to keep from baring his teeth. He dipped the bread in batter and tossed in on the pan. Ramsay tried to speak calmly in a friendly tone. “I can’t stand the thought of you being around people like that. What if… do you know how desperate they are? Look at what Loras did!”

“I’ve only spent more years as psychiatric nurse than you’ve spent living, but, hey, I’m sure you have _a lot_ to teach me.”

“Mum!” He dropped the spatula and his hand flew up but froze as he did. He held his breath before inhaling deeply then turned with a furious grin. “ _Fine_. You’re right. Still, maybe some new opportunity will come up this summer for you.” He shrugged sweetly and smirked flipping the toast.

She smiled at him like only a loving mother could and sighed. “You have a plan for me, dearheart?”

“Hmm.” He shrugged tilting towards her with a waggle of his eyebrows.

She couldn’t help but smile at how happy he was with himself. “Excuse me, sir, **I** am the parent. **You** are the child. I’ve been telling you that since you were two and half.”

He beamed and put the toast on a waiting plate. “And what have I always said?”

“Ha, ha.” She hopped down and came to hug his ribs. “My goodness, how did you so tall? And gorgeous?” She pinched his cheek and he was glowing back at her with more adoration than should fit in a single person. “Ramsay, you are such a challenge.” She squeezed him and pressed her head to his shoulder.

He used to sleep on her shoulder when he was a rag doll she gathered from the backseat after driving him around for hours just to make him nap. She could still remember how, dead asleep, his limp arm would suddenly curl around her neck. She would kiss his soft fat cheek. Now he had a hard, handsome face. It happened so quickly. There were things that could not be undone. “Loving you was always easy though. Easier than breathing.”

He wrapped an arm around her. “I’m going to take care of you, mum,  no matter what you tell me,” he promised yet again, as he always had.

“Hey that smells good, sweetie. I’ll get Theon.” She patted his back. “He’s such a good guy, honey. I really like him for you.”

Ramsay grinned and broke away. “I’ll get him!” He still thought he could hide things from her. He didn’t realize he’d been trying to lie to her since before he knew how to.

“Please take care of that boy,” she plead under her breath, but Theon had no chance to hear her.

 

“So, Ramsay everything is fine. Did he talk to you about the impound and chop shop yet?”

“No.”

“Well, now that Locke’s gone… oh, fuck.”

“What?” Alyn sat up at once.

“I think I’m getting pulled over.”

“You want me to call that lawyer?”

“Fuck!” Damon slowed to a stop on the highway’s shoulder. “Yeah. I think you had better.” _This is it. The end of my life._

“Ok.” Alyn scrolled through his contacts trying to remember if he saved Petry as ‘douchebag lawyer’ or ‘shit-eating grin.’

Damon watched his rearview mirror then put his hand over Alyn’s phone. “Wait.” He rolled his window down and stared incredulously.

“Woa!” Alyn jumped back when the cop leaned into the window.

“Joseph.” Damon said flatly.

“Hey.” He smiled and waved to Alyn, who looked from him to Damon and back. “Uh, sorry for… look, your phone was disconnected."

“Yeah.” Damon rolled his eyes. He was blushing. “Well, there’s a reason.”

“Oh.” Joseph seemed hurt by the rebuff and didn’t try to hide it. “You should stop by. You know, on Christmas.”

“Ugh,” Damon covered his face. “You can’t pull me over to invite me to ruin your family’s Christmas."

“Well, I’ll get to the point. There’s a heart condition that runs on my side of the family. Most people over six foot three seem to have it. I would like to tell you more about it, over the phone or whatever, but the most important thing is to see a cardiologist… like, yesterday. That’s what I wanted to tell you.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, ok. I will.”

“I have a stocking for you-”

“OKAY! THANKS! Thanks, that’s very... I have to go. Thank you.”

Joseph stood looking rather despondent. “You have my number?”

Damon nodded, still looking straight ahead. Joseph waved goodbye to Alyn. “Uh,” Damon winced, “merry Christmas, Joseph. I’ll, you know, call you sometime or whatever, ok?”

His window rolled up as Joseph smiled. “Ok!” He returned to his car.

Damon pulled back into traffic. “Yeah, ok, bye. _God_!”

“Yikes,” Alyn muttered.

“Right?”

Alyn scratched his head. “Seems like a nice guy though.”

“I guess. Hey,” Damon suddenly turned to Alyn. “Could you break into a house for me?”

Alyn raised an eyebrow. “Sure but… on Christmas Eve?”

“Yeah!” Damon took an exit ramp.

 

“Ok, it’s that one. Can you just leave this under the tree?”

Alyn looked the hard, thin book over. “That looks like the bull on your arm.”

Damon grinned. “Yeah.”

“Uh… alright then.”

“Um, just… make sure the bow stays on. It's that house with the white stone steps.”

 

“Thanks again for doing that.” Damon said as they approached they bright, warm house together. “You always have my back. I’ll always have yours.”

"I never broke in just to leave something before," Alyn mused.

The door opened before they reached it. “Oh, Damon! Ramsay’s mom rushed out to hug him. “I am so sorry about Lysie.” She started crying. Alyn backed up nervously. “Come talk to me, honey. Your poor boy! She was such a wonderful little girl-”

“Mum! Let them get out of the cold.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Let me take your-”

“I’ll take their coats, go sit down. You haven’t sat all day.” Ramsay made way for Damon to enter and took his jacket. “Take your boots off, assholes.” Damon went to say hello to Theon. Alyn watched him leave from the cold.

“Hey!” He looked at Ramsay. “GET IN!”

“Come on, kid! You’re letting the heat out.” Damon waved him in.

Alyn smiled and shoved his coat into Ramsay.

“Bitch tits.”

“Asslicker.”

 

“I heard you got a new tattoo.” Theon said with a tired smile.

“Oh, yeah. Skinner did it. See?”

“A queen of hearts, a jack of diamonds… the king of hearts.” Theon’s eyes traced the king’s sword. “That… that looks great, Damon.”

“You should let Skinner work on you sometime.”

“I don’t think so.” Theon grinned.

“I got this too.” He turned to show his other shoulder. In the center of the little white flowers, there was a growing rose for Damon’s bull to smell under his favorite cork tree.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I get depressed and anxious over my writing, which is often, I re-read the nice comments people have left until I can go on. If you have enjoyed this at all, won't you please leave a comment or kudos? ^-^
> 
> My deep appreciation and love for the people who have encouraged me such as trueorfalse, nanjcsy, yourwastedspace, megomuffin, arkenstone and more.
> 
> Thank you for reading. <3


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